Arya's Wyrda
by Mistygurl101
Summary: "Throw me, Glaedr commanded and Eragon tossed the Eldunari high in the air where it shattered into a million little pieces." Arya's Wyrda is complete.
1. Accepting

Arya's Wyrda…

Arya Drottingu pulled on her trousers and tunic. The trousers made her look like a human man, but in Elvish culture it was accepted. Women and men were not segregated; all Elves were treated the same. Elvin females were not degraded and made weak like human women, who were forced to wear dresses, and stay at home to knit as they watched their children.

Arya shuddered at the thought. Then her thoughts turned to Eragon, like they usually did. It was true; she fell in love with the human rider. In the beginning, she did not have intimate feelings for him like this; she had only felt in debt to him because he saved her life in Gil'ead. He was a muscular, strong willed, but charming and sensitive human man, and that was all she thought of him as. Though after his changes at the Agaeti Blodhren she thought differently. Eragon became wise, graceful, and more Elf-like than she thought possible. He had come to woo her that night; she remembered it clearly. He was begging for her love, and she had to turn him down rudely. Eragon's destiny was not with her, it was to become the first of the new generation of riders, and defeat Galbatorix. She knew that the last thing Eragon needed was her as a distraction. So she shunned Eragon, and reminded him that they both had responsibilities to attend and honor their liege-lords.

Eragon was never the same after that; he hardly ever smiled, laughed, and was not very social. He studied hard and excelled, just like Arya hoped for. She watched him silently in his lessons. She saw the determination in his eyes, and the fervent intensity of his spell casting, in which she admired.

Arya didn't smile much anymore either, unless she had to for Islanzandi and her court. She preferred to be alone, wishing for Eragon to be with her.

Though whenever Arya heard the birds sing a new pain stabbed at her heart, Faolin, her first love, and her best friend. He stuck with her through the worst times of her life. She and Faolin felt the same when it came to siding with the Varden. Also, how they could not stay inactive in their fantasy Elvin world while the real world crumbled. It was Faolin who saved her countless times from Urgals, and other terrors as they transported Saphira to and from the Varden and the Elves. When she saw Faolin fall to his death from a spell uttered by Durza, she realized that you don't worry so much about yourself dieing in battle, but watching the people closest to you fall into the unknown abyss without you. You will spend months, and years replaying the scene in your head, wondering what you could have done different to save their lives. How Arya could have saved him. When Faolin fell, she saw herself walking through the ages of the world alone. She would never see Faolin sing to the birds, teaching them new songs ever again. She would not hear his wisdom, or be uplifted by his constant cheer. She lost her best friend and partner that day, and it still hurt. She still grieved for Faolin, and it sealed her and Eragon's fate of Rider and her as his protector. Nothing more.

She saw the pain ripple through her body in the mirror as she checked her appearance. She saw the façade of happiness she so desperately clung to falter, as Faolin's name ran across her thoughts again, and again.

If all went according to the Varden and the Elves plans; Eragon would defeat Galbatorix, and Nasuada would most likely become Queen. Eragon would go on missions to clean up the aftermath of Galbatorixs' reign in Alagaesia. The Elves would go back to peace with the world, and the Varden would disband, not being needed anymore. Arya would watch from the sidelines as Eragon made Alagaesia pure and good again. He would become a hero and a king. Maybe he would find himself another immortal that he could love? That lucky girl would replace Arya completely, and Arya would walk through the centuries alone, never to be loved again.


	2. What are we to do?

_Restrain yourself_, Arya corrected herself desperately as Eragon approached her. She marveled over his strong features and his masculine tone. How honesty and self-confidence wafted around him like a ward. Arya relished the way his conscience gently caressed hers in greeting; her heart and mind lingered over his touch in welcome. He smiled, oblivious to the fact of her internal turmoil, and pressed his two fingers against his lips. "Arya Svit-Kona" he acknowledged, skipping the formal greeting. She returned the gesture, "Shade Slayer." Eragon gave her a sly grin that made her lips follow suit.

"Why the smile?" She couldn't help but ask. She always couldn't help but be interested in everything that he did; it was something she couldn't resist. Eragon had her interest captivated, and it seemed to her that he drew her attention on purpose.

"You have to refrain from calling me that now that you are of that title yourself."

"Why ever not?" Arya felt stupid for inquiring on Eragon's reasons, he always seemed to come up with something, and she should know better than to ask why by now.

"Well, that would mean that I would have to return the gesture, it is proper. Though I have to admit that I favor calling you Arya Drottingu." Eragon explained quickly, then his unwavering gaze fell to the pine needle covered earth as he realized his mistake.

"Are you implying that I do not deserve the title?" Arya asked stiffly, even though deep inside she knew that her heart warmed at his preference. _Why do I always push him away?_ She criticized herself.

"No, my lady, I am out of place." Eragon's mood became formal, unnatural, something that he was truly not. Arya softened towards him as she realized that he was just trying to please her. "My apologies. I will take my leave." He nodded at her, his eyes filled with disappointment as he turned and walked briskly away.

Arya's spirits fell as his warm conscience pulled away, leaving her cold and alone, "Eragon."

He turned back to her; his eyes numb, holding back their brilliance. "No, I am sorry, I was out of place questioning your intentions." Arya smiled slightly, "an old habit of mine that has yet to be broken."

His smile set her heart ablaze. "So we have come to an understanding of my intentions."

"I believe so, Shade Slayer." Arya spoke formally, again.

Eragon's smile faltered," Please, address me as Eragon. I am after all, just a farm boy of Carvahal.

"Hardly," Arya stepped beside him. "Shall we walk?"

He, somewhat subconsciously, stepped closer to her, "As you wish."

_Oh, if only you knew what it is that I wish_, Arya sadly. "Please, what news did you have for me?" Immediately switching back into work mode. They were working together towards one goal. Other than that they shared no other connection as of now.

A frown appeared on Eragon's appealing features.

"What ails you, Sha—Eragon?" Arya corrected herself as she let her resolve slip a little farther.

"Do I always need to have a message to seek your company, Arya?" He asked, almost upset. Arya gazed at her clasped hands thoughtfully. _Was_ it okay for him to seek friendship from her? She knew that's what the underlying question was, she knew how to read between the lines. "Eragon…" She began. Eragon glanced at her unfathomable expression anxiously, "If it is friendship you seek, then I will gladly take the title." She tensed as she realized what she had just done; she just allowed for more distractions.

"Oh, Arya! This means so much to me!" Eragon exclaimed, unable to hold back his outburst. She smiled, "It is about time I have a friend around here that does not only befriend me for my position in our Race." She admitted. Though she really wanted to say that it was _his_ friendship that she was truly seeking deep down.

Comfortable silence filtered through the forest as they mulled over what had occurred.

"Where are we going, might I ask?" Arya smiled as she realized how deep in Du Weldenvarden they had gotten as their conversation dragged on.

Eragon smiled as he realized their careless mistake, "Well, my next stop was the stump, but of course that can wait." His eyes dimmed with sadness.

"The stump?" Arya questioned, alarmed by his sudden mood swing.

He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes," A training exercise for Oromis," he swallowed painfully," h-he would have me sit for hours and open my mind to the creatures around me. A rebel I was, always trying to prove this exercise unnecessary, and had a short temper. Little did I know how right he was, how right they both were. How I _wish_ I would have listened to them more and cast down my pride." Honest tears slid down both their cheeks as they both cherished Glaedr and Oromis' memories and wise words of wisdom. Just like before, Arya found herself in an embrace, sobbing freely with Eragon as they continued to morn the loss of two amazing souls. Arya cried for the doom they all faced, the doom Eragon and Saphira, two innocents, were sentenced to. _Was there hope_? Arya could not tell. They experienced each other's feelings through their consciences. Usually by now, Arya would have controlled her emotions and pulled away, like the last time. No, she _needed_ this. She neededto feel Eragon's strong presence in her life; she _needed_ to feel like she wasn't alone in this harsh world.

"Eragon, what are we to do? How can we go on with out them?" Arya sobbed, letting her soft side unveil itself.

"I don't know." He whispered, agonized," I just don't know."

**A/N I tried… I tried hard on this chapter. If it didn't live up to what you were expecting and was terrible then… I will go cry in a corner. Just kidding, but I will be open to re-writing and fixing obvious mistakes. Thank you for your past reviews! You're support is absolutely amazing!**


	3. The Stump

"This is it," Eragon said grimly as he pointed to a rather large, decaying stump. Even though Arya wasn't a Rider, she could feel the sensational amount of microscopic creatures thriving within the stumps territory. "Incredible," were the only comprehendible words Arya could phrase as the abrupt vastness of consciences over whelmed her mind.

"Isn't it?" Eragon was clearly pleased at her reaction. They both sat on the ground directly in front of the stump. "I would sit here for hours, observing, learning, and analyzing the patterns and methods of these creatures. Then going to _his_ house and explaining every last detail." Eragon smiled, "only to have him tell me that the information was not good enough." He lay back on the pine and moss covered ground, staring at the dense forest canopy above them, "Incredibly frustrating, as you could imagine."

"How did you begin this frustrating lesson?" Arya smiled at the look on Eragon's face as he contemplated actually beginning the lesson. "By opening my mind to every living being. Galbatorix himself could have been in my mind for all I knew." He frowned at the thought. "Would you like to try?" Arya nodded, the more time she had with Eragon the better.

With that the two fell into silence as they opened their consciences to the swirling abyss of bustling life. Arya immediately felt the regal presence of the Queen Ant and her minions as they made haste to her every need. The charade reminded Arya of her mother's lifestyle, though it was not so chaotic. Every ant in the vicinity of this stump would be more than willing to sacrifice their life to protect their Queen; and even more so would the Elves of Alagasia with Islanzadi. Of course Arya would protect her Queen, but even so, she would feel more satisfied dying for the future King of Alagasia, Eragon. Arya knew that it was no formality; she would die to save Eragon. _You think hard, Arya._ Eragon's conscience embraced hers. _You should not delve too deep, O Rider, you will not favor what you find, I assure you_. Arya thought, mildly, trying not to reveal the simple pleasures he gave by just touching her conscience.

_My apologies_, Eragon's voice a whisper as his welcoming presence retracted from her mind. _There you go again, tossing him out_! Arya practically screamed at herself. Awkward silence settled heavy on the two Elves; Their consciences with drawn. "When do you plan to return to the Varden?" Eragon asked, breaking the silence.

"Whenever you depart." Arya clutched her hands on her lap to keep from slapping a hand over her mouth. She might as well have had confessed herself to him! _Calm_, Arya chided herself, _maybe he will not think so drastically as you expect_?

Eragon gave her a sideways glance, "Then would it humor you to know that I was waiting until you departed?" Arya's heart warmed; she withdrew her shield a millimeter, "It might, Shadeslayer." Trying not to reveal just _how much_ his words actually meant to her. Arya let out a sigh; when could she push aside these formal charades? Would this game of push and pull never end?

"What troubles you, Shadeslayer?" Eragon asked. Arya smiled at the playful intentions of the title. She could not forget the banter they had just hours before. "Nothing that should concern you, Rider." She replied lightly.

"We should go. Saphira has been getting evermore impatient with our 'drabbling', as she calls it." Eragon smiled sheepishly. _Drabbling_, that was an appropriate term for the pointless conversation between them. Eragon stood up swiftly and offered his hand to Arya. _Another decision_, she thought bitterly. _To the hells with it!_ She took his hand almost exuberantly and he pulled her up with a little more force than necessary; causing her to press up against his masculine torso, their faces just inches apart. Their breath caught as they inhaled each other's scents with the Elves enhanced senses. Arya found herself relishing in the physical touch that she had longed for so long. Eragon's brilliant green eyes had no end… his hawk like features._ If you two hatchlings will not come out to a clearing where I can meet you, then I will come to you, no matter the damage to this bloody forest! _Saphira's voice rang out mentally_. _Eragon and Arya looked to the sky and heard the rhythmic flapping of the great birds wings and her mighty roar, as they did not commend to her wishes right away.

**A/N Yes, yes, yes, very short. Wrestling has taken up my entire life, so I honestly have no time for this. And, yes, I know this chapter is no good. I promise to do better on the next one, and make it very long with some action. But the thing I have noticed about most fanfics is the rushing of the story line, so that's why I'm trying to take the relationship part slow. Typos, **_**Check**_**, bad grammar, **_**check**_**, bad chapter outline, **_**check…**_** did I get every thing? I hope so.**


	4. Riddles

"_I __have streets but no pavement.  
I have cities but no buildings.  
I have forests yet no trees.  
I have rivers yet no water.  
_

_What am I?_" Saphira sang mentally to both Arya and Eragon. They both groaned, she had been quizzing them relentlessly across the entire Hadarac Desert.

_Another one?_ Eragon groaned, sending the emotion as well as the words. "Its simply not fair!" He exclaimed aloud. Arya could barely hear him, the thundering of Saphira's wings almost completely drowned out the sound of his voice. In her frustration, Saphira let the strong current drop their altitude rapidly. In response, Arya tightened her arms around Eragon's waist and pressed her forehead against him, breathing deeply. _Stop, Saphira! You're making Arya sick!_ Eragon snapped. _It is not my fault we cannot figure out your blasted riddles! _

_My apologies, Arya Drottignu_. Saphira said almost smugly. Arya didn't respond, she just kept breathing, inhaling more of Eragon's musky scent and loosened her grip.

Eragon, Saphira, and Arya are on their way to the Varden's base camp in Surda. After the discovery of the Eldunari and the destruction of the Shade and the over coming of Feinster, the trio had returned to Ellesmera on a well-deserved break as the Varden regrouped. Also, they insisted to return to the Elf City because of Oromis and Glaedr's tribute and mourning ceremony. It had been sad, but more of a celebration of their long lives and all the good they had done for Alagasia rather than their terrible death. The elves still had no knowledge of the Eldunari, that Eragon kept in the safest place possible.

The relentless and cruel wind battered and beat Saphira. Just willing them to fail. The rapid changing of altitude wasn't sitting well with Arya. If it weren't for Eragon holding them both on the saddle, she would be flying. _I'm going to be sick; _she hid her head behind Eragon once again, willing the pounding wind to calm. _Saphira land. This isn't worth it_. Eragon held onto Arya's clasped hands, his calloused hand was comforting to her, little did he know. With a mighty grunt, Saphira tucked her wings and nose-dived. Eragon had one hand on the saddle and the other still holding Arya's hand. _This is it,_ Arya thought to herself as they spiraled downwards. Arya whispered a prayer in elfish. Suddenly, the wind was calm, and Saphira opened up her wings. They gently drifted down towards the earth and Arya felt comfortable enough to unlatch her iron grip from Eragon' s waist. Her stomach flipped and twisted it seemed, even though the terror ride was over. Eragon got off first and Arya followed, except her head was spinning, so she just sat sideways on the saddle. "Look what you did Saphira." Eragon chastised his partner, "Scared the wits out of her, you did." To Arya's complete and delirious surprise; Eragon lifted her out of the saddle and set her on her feet, keeping an arm around her waist. The world spun, all the hazy colors mixed together. Thankfully, blackness replaced all the horrid mixtures of colors. Pain replaced with peace, not a bad way to go.

The next day…

"Awake, Shadeslayer." Eragon's voice reverberated in her head. "What?" Arya sat up with a start, reaching for the sheath on her hip, which carried her sword. She looked up from her sword to see a very amused Eragon, their faces inches apart. "I was just wondering," Eragon began with a sly smile, "If you planned on reaching the Varden before Galbatorix dies of old age?"

Arya couldn't help but smile, "It would be easier for the both of us if it happened that way." She mused. Eragon stood up, pulling her with him. Was it just her, or did Eragon just lift her like she weighed nothing? "That was quite a scare you gave us yesterday." Eragon took a step back from their close stance, and started kicking sand on the fire. " A fainting elf is quite a sight," his signature smile played on his face. Arya ignored the jab and knelt, rolling her sleeping roll a little tighter than necessary. "Think fast," Eragon said, and just as swift Arya caught the bottle of Faelnirv with her gloved hand. She downed the Fire Liquor in a couple gulps. Feeling refreshed, Arya tied her bedroll on the saddle. "Eragon,"

Eragon looked up from putting out the fire, "where exactly are we?" Arya asked. The desert seemed to have transformed overnight. Dunes and tumbleweeds appeared out of no-where so it seemed from last night. "It was quite a windstorm. Monsoon season does make things rather difficult. Nevertheless, we are three quarters of the way there. We made good time."

They both turned back to their work.

"_This thing all things devours:_

_Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;_

_Gnaws iron, bites steel;_

_Grinds hard stones to meal;_

_Slays king, ruins town_

_And beats High Mountain down."_

_Saphira!_ Both Eragon and Arya exclaimed. They were not halfway through the day's worth of flying and she had already asked them close to twenty riddles! Even though Arya was irritated with Saphira's persistent attempt at passing time, she thought these riddles over. Eragon seemed naturally talented when it came to deciphering riddles. She thought this one over hard, "A dragon?" She tried.

Saphira scoffed, "the answer is Time." Arya groaned, she _was_ helpless; riddles were not her strong point. _Its okay,_ Eragon said to just Arya, _I didn't know that one either._

_A few hours later…_

As soon as the Beor Mountains came in sight Saphira veered right towards Surda. _Should we wait until light tomorrow to arrive?_ Arya suggested, she didn't feel like dealing with the Varden's many controversies at the moment.

_A fine idea_, Eragon agreed grimly along with Saphira. _Thank you_, Arya spoke only to Saphira as she landed gracefully. _Not a problem_, Arya could hear the smile in her deep voice.

They set up camp and eat the rest of their bread rations and Faelnirv. Lying side-by-side, Arya and Eragon watched the stars. Arya finally learned what electricity was. Everything was perfect.

A/N

**Hey guys, some feed back would be nice. Thank you to all of you who read this. How was it? How do you think this should go?**


	5. Charade

The fabric of Arya's silver tunic itched relentlessly in the horrid Surda heat. Lady Nasuada had requested her presence exactly one hour ago, and yet here Arya was, still waiting outside. Eragon, Saphira, and her arrived only the day before. As soon as they arrived it was, "Princess Arya, King Orik requests your presence… Shadeslayer, you have an audience in the Council room… A meeting with the Elders… a meeting with the Chief Commander." If she had to attend one more bloody meeting that day, Arya was certain her polite demeanor would not hold, even for the most deserving.

She sensed his presence before she saw him. Eragon was heading this way, without Saphira, which was odd. _Hail Rider_, she greeted, without meeting his gaze. _It seems we have been called for the same meeting, finally_. Eragon seemed somewhat relieved, Arya noted. Eragon glanced at her, _I mean, its just that I've been to countless meetings today, and not one of them have I had a friend, other than Saphira. All of their audiences have either been unintelligent, or too proud to council with. _

Arya, the counselor, the trusty friend and the back up. She was done; Arya was sick and tired of this charade. Maybe it was this blasted heat… maybe it was her pent up frustration, and maybe it was both! But Eragon needed to know that she was having a hard time playing along with this 'friends only' way of life. Since she was literally his "friend", they would be spending days and weeks together in travel. They would share a bond of trust like no other… nearly impossible to keep true to the rules of their friendship. "Eragon," she nearly said aloud before common sense caught up with her. What am I doing?

"Please," The Dwarf bowed low at the entrance, guiding them to their seats. Eragon and Arya gave each other a look as they were seated directly across from each other at the large wooden table. Nasuada, naturally, took the head of the table, with each designated Counselor in their rightful places. Arya stared at Eragon as a battle of common sense and love raged in her mind: The Pro's and the Con's. Eragon had confessed his love for her, but that was months ago. With humans, any thing could change in a matter of minutes, let alone months! Arya was not blind though, his secret glances, his desire for her friendship back in Du Weldenvarden. It all had to mean something… didn't it?

"Let me just begin this meeting by stressing just how thankful I am that Arya and Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira have returned to the Varden unharmed and safe." Applause went around the table. _Arya and Eragon Shadeslayer?_ Was that not how married humans titled themselves?

Eragon caught Arya's gaze, _was it just me, or did she say our names like we were married?_ Arya thought she kept her outer appearance calm and collected as she laughed on the inside with Eragon at the coincidence, but obviously nothing gets pass the ever-curious, Nasuada. "Princess Arya, are you well?"

Arya and Eragon exchanged a glance, "Very well, your majesty." Arya obediently clasped her hands on top of the table. "Then have I said something to your dislike?"

Arya felt the heavy gaze of every one at the table, though Eragon's most of all. "No, your majesty, every thing sounded perfect." With a shrug, every one turned back to business. _Perfect?_ Eragon asked. Was that excitement in his voice?

_Perfect_. Even though Eragon seemed to be giving Lady Nasuada his utmost attention, Arya's unwavering gaze was still fixed on him. Why couldn't she just confess herself? One hundred years of self control and masking her true feelings was truly taking a toll on Arya at this moment. _After this meeting_, she promised her self. _Arya,_ Eragon's conscience embraced her mind, _though I appreciate the attention, Nasuada is most unpleased. What are you thinking about anyways_? Arya could hardly believe what she was about to say; _you._ Eragon's eyes widened and he leaned forward in his seat, just barely noticeable, his hands clasped in front of him, mirroring Arya's pose. _Really?_ Eragon could hardly believe it. Arya, thinking of him! _Though exactly what about me_, he wondered.

_I wouldn't lie_, Arya was a little harsher than she intended, there I go again, pushing him away. Arya caught herself; _I would never lie about that. _Her gaze locked with his. Eragon was about to say something but Nasuada interrupted, "Eragon and Arya! Would you like to share anything with us?" Her voice sharp.

"No, my liege." The pair reluctantly tore their eyes off each other and looked at the steaming Nasuada. "Above it all!" She cursed, "Above all magic, it's this telepathic nonsense I hate the most."

Arya and Eragon tried their best to look ashamed, though on the inside, feelings were begging to stir.

After the meeting…

"Arya!" Eragon called aloud, running to catch up with the elf. "Yes, Eragon?" Arya asked. Like always, they allowed their two minds to touch, to become one, of course they still shielded their direct thoughts. "I was just wondering what you meant at the meeting?" Was he embarrassed?

"You were simply running through my thoughts, you asked what I was thinking about. Was I supposed to lie?" Arya looked at him.

" Exactly what about me was so interesting?" Eragon asked, nervously.

Arya wanted to laugh, "Interesting? You, a poor farm boy stumbles upon one of the most treasured items in Alagaesia, becomes a Dragon Rider. Somehow keeps your Dragon secret, impossible, but you did it. You, travel the country with a Dragon Rider in disguise, and then are welcomed as a Yawe into Ellesmera being human; something that has only happened once before in history. Not to mention you killing a Shade, while human. Then, you are transformed into an elf, while keeping your canny sense of will and humor… and you have to ask what was so interesting about you?" Then Arya really did laugh. Wait… did she just say all that aloud? In front of the whole camp? Arya looked out of the corner of her eye and saw that nobody had noticed. Eragon was dumbstruck, "Rider? Are you well?" Arya asked, hinting at humor. She kept her fluid pace towards their tent, Eragon walking beside her. " So, to sum that all up; you _do_ think I am interesting?" Childish excitement crept up in his voice.

"Yes, Eragon, I _know_ you are interesting." Arya almost rolled her eyes as she spoke in the Ancient Language; must they have it in writing? She didn't even think interesting was the right word… intriguing maybe? Then, Arya felt excited, she had taken the second step. The pair finally stopped in front of Arya's tent, which happened to be right next to Arya's.

"Eragon"

"Arya" They said at the same time.

To their surprise, they both just stared at each other. "Arya I've been meaning to talk to you about something." Eragon began hesitantly. Arya nodded, trying to encourage, she let her conscience touch his, and "I just… I know we are friends and ally's… the list goes on for what we are." _And for what we aren't_, Arya added. Eragon stopped, his emotions matching Arya's. Eragon, much to Arya's surprise, took one of her hands, and to Eragon's surprise, she didn't pull back. "But were going to be spending a lot of time toge---"

"Hail Rider!" King Orik interrupted, to what Arya thought of, the most important conversation she's had in a while. Eragon still kept her hand when he acknowledged Orik. "King Orik, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Arya squeezed his hand, Eragon gave her an apologetic smile, and she walked swiftly away. _Saphira, where are you?_ Arya projected her stimulated, yet still practical, thoughts. _I already know, believe me, he wont stop talking about it. Nevertheless_. Saphira showed Arya an image of where she was. Arya took off at full speed.

_Eragon. _

"Aye, lad, I knew it was meant to be!" Orik thundered, he had seen Eragon holding Arya's hand, "I just knew it!"

Eragon smiled, "Nothing's official yet, Orik. Or, King Orik, I imagine." Eragon corrected himself half-heartedly, his thoughts still centered on Arya.

Orik grunted and poured himself another glass of brandy, "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"My apologies. My mind is in another place as of now." Eragon admitted. Orik gave him his all-knowing smile, " It has a right to be. Eragon, the half-blood Rider, with the Princess of the Elves! Can you remember how feather brained you were in Ellesmera? With the fairth and all…" Orik smiled to himself. Eragon leaned back in his chair, "I'd rather not look back on my stupidity, Orik. This time, I think she might feel the same. She just might." _Can I imagine?_ He asked himself. Arya and him, together on all their journeys, and he wouldn't have to worry about sending the wrong message. _Too good to be true,_ he decided. "Aye," Orik seemed to agree, "You'll have to wait and see. Now, on to business…"

_Arya._

_Saphira, I know this has got to be illegal, or something_. Arya vented. _But I cant stop this… this _feeling_ I get whenever I'm around him, or this sense of loss when I'm not! _

_He loves you Arya. Eragon truly does. Every time you come near him, I feel his excitement, his apprehension. When your not around, he always' has an eye out for you. If you told him how much he means to you; not only would he welcome you with open arms, you, Arya, would make him the happiest man on earth._ Saphira explained with a huff, sending smoke swirling around the two of them.

"This is so childish… I am acting like an adolescent." Arya realized, embarrassment washing over her. "I should just go and tell him right now. Blast whatever rules their might be, I'm going to tell him. If he's not coming after me, than I will go do it myself." Arya announced. "I can not seem to concentrate on anything else anyways, I'd be doing every one a favor." She set off at a sprint.

_It is about time_, Saphira snorted behind her.

A/N

Hey! So, it's a record. Two updates. So this one I'm a little shaky about. I just needed to give this story a shove. I know Arya's a little OOC in this one. I tried to keep her true, but to be honest, Paolini's books don't really give you that much of Arya's personality to work with. If you don't like it sorry! OH! Another thing! I JUST realized that I have been spelling Alagaesia wrong this whole time! Haha! I'm so embarrassed!!! You guys should have said something!


	6. Redemption

Orik and his Dwarven guard had just left. Exhausted, Eragon lay down on his bed. Unfortunately, Saphira had to sleep outside of his tent. In fact, she slept right in between Arya's tent and Eragon's. Because, in fact she was a dragon, and dragon's could take care of themselves… etc, etc... Arya remembered that particular discussion very well. After coming back from the bathing tent, Arya slipped into Eragon's tent, aware of Saphira's steady gaze as she feigned sleep. "Arya," Eragon acknowledged her, apprehension in his voice. Arya ducked her head, her moon colored tunic glowing in the torchlight. Its amber light bringing out the dark mahogany tones in her elfish bow. Eragon stood up, but kept his distance on the other side of the large canvas. "You keep away from me like I have a disease." Arya accused, lightly. Eragon quickly closed most of the distance, leaving naught but two feet between them. "Is this better?" Eragon asked with a teasing smile. "Yes," Arya looked up hesitantly, trying to sustain the teasing mood. " I believe," Arya thought of her discussion with Saphira and quickly became confident, "That we were in the middle of something earlier, and got quite rudely interrupted."

Eragon tried to hide his nervousness," Obviously, Orik doesn't understand the Elf's policy of courtesy." When Arya didn't smile and looked down he tried again, "Well, like I said… earlier." Eragon stopped, how was he supposed to do this?

"Earlier…" Arya met his eyes again. "Eragon just say it." She was losing her temper. After the heat and frustration of the day, she was completely out of patience, especially for something she wanted so badly. Arya gripped her bow, her left hand itching for the quiver. Eragon stepped back, "Arya, are you going to kill me?" Amusement and confusion danced in his eyes.

By now the Varden's camp was sleeping, only crickets and horses were audible.

Arya dropped her bow, dropped her arrow, and ducked her head, "How could I kill you… If I could not live without you?" Her soft voice only audible for those with heightened senses. Eragon closed the remaining space in between them," Then don't just live with me, be with me." Eragon's whisper tickled Arya's pointed ear, his hands on her shoulders; as if to keep her from running away. Not yet satisfied, Arya became desperate, "Thorta du ilumeo." (A/N "Speak the truth")

Eragon was trapped; he couldn't beat around the bush any longer, "I love you, Arya Svit-Kona." Arya stared at him hard, then her gaze softened, "Eka elrun ono." She whispered, looking down. (A/N "I thank you.")

"Arya," Eragon lifted her chin, "Do not thank me." Arya restrained herself as he took her hands, " Be with me."

"Yes," Arya sighed in relief, "Of course I will! Eragon, this is what I have been waiting for." Their voices constrained to a minimal whisper. Eragon brushed the loose tendrils of hair with the back of his hand, his lips coming dangerously close to hers. Arya breathed in quickly as his lips brushed against hers. She stepped closer, encouraged by the strong arm around her waist. Their lips finally met and every aspect of life seemed to be right again. For once, Eragon and Arya forgot completely about Galbatorix, they forgot about the Varden, and they forgot about the Empire. It was only him and her; Rider and Elf, just trying to hold on to what matters most. Trying to exist in a world that rebelled against them. At least now, they know that they have each other.

_A/N so… how'd it go? Its shorter that most, yes. Sorry about that. If I hadn't complained to you already, I have drivers Ed, wrestling (seven days a week), dog training/showing, school, and so obviously this is just a last resort. I am also sick with the stomach flu… so this chapter might be a bit demented… lol. _


	7. Revenge

"Eragon," Arya smiled against his lips as she attempted to back out of their embrace, but Eragon wasn't having it. "Letta," (stop) She pleaded, laughing. "Alright, alright." Eragon released her, too elated to be disappointed. To make up for the lack of contact his right hand laced with hers, his Gedwey Ignasia pressed up against Arya's hand; sending the most peculiar sensations through her arm. "I must go, it must be after midnight already," Arya smiled half-heartedly. "If you must," He feigned disappointment.

"I must," Arya squeezed his hand. "What would the other's say if the most two important people of this war are too tired to attend the meetings?" With that, Eragon begrudgingly led them past the smirking Saphira to Arya's tent. After he bid her goodnight, Arya smiled herself to sleep.

The Next Morning…

_Awake! You have slept far too long! If you keep this up I will make sure that you never spend nights with Arya again!_ Saphira banged around Eragon's head.

_Saphira! Mercy!_ Eragon rolled out of bed and started changing into the clothes that a servant had brought him. The camp was bustling with activity; commanding officers barking out orders, servants catching loose chickens, and armor clanking together. It sounded like a busy market place. While he was cleaning up, his mind reached out and searched for Arya. Ah, she was in a heated discussion with the clan priest, who was giving his daily teachings in the main plaza. _Give it a rest Arya_, Eragon had to smile at the scene unfolding. _We don't need any more enemies._

_True._ Arya bid the priest farewell. _It is about time, Nasuada has called yet another strategy meeting, it starts in a few minutes. _

_Another?_ Eragon groaned while he brushed his teeth. _I know the plan like the back of my hand! In fact, I made the bloody strategy! _

_Do not take it out on me_. Arya rebuked._ I'm just as irritated as you are._

Eragon spat into the washbasin, _I'm sorry._ _I just believe that we need to get back to Feinster and meet up with the rest of the troops. I've had enough stalling with these unnecessary strategy meetings._

Arya sighed inwardly; he needed to be encouraged. She tried to lift his spirits as she swiftly squeezed through the plaza. _I agree with you Eragon, as I usually do. Nasuada is young and needs twice as much reassurance as her father would have. Let's go to the meeting and support our liege lord, who is under much stress and needs our encouragement. _

She felt him relax, his tension leaving his strained thoughts. _As long as you're there_, he thought.

_Well, I am here, waiting for you._ Arya quirked as she stood by Nasuada's council tent, surrounded by sweating, dirt encrusted dwarves and humans alike. Arya was wearing a deep green tunic, sleeveless, and breeches with an elegant belt hanging on her waist. Her long dark hair was freshly braided with a golden strand of silk. Her own sword bumped her left hip as Eragon playfully nudged her shoulder. Arya had known where he was this whole time. She crossed her arms, "That is the last time I spend half the night awake for your affections." She gave him a playful glare, "I am exhausted beyond belief."

Eragon scoffed, "I am just as tired as you. Besides," he took her right hand and kissed it, "I'd do it again in a heart beat." His brown eyes locked with hers.

Arya sighed in defeat and laced her fingers with his, "As would I." His Gedwey Ignasia was sending the same sensations up her arm again. Then Arya got to thinking about the consequences of their actions in public. Eragon agreed and let go of her hand.

"Her majesty, Nasuada, will see you now." The servant boy led them into the tent.

After The Meeting…

"Can you believe it?" Eragon exalted as they exited the hot tent. Arya could not help but smile at his enthusiasm. He had gotten what he wanted; finally things were going his way. Blodgharm caught up with them silently, "Rider, you seem so enthused for attacking the worlds deadliest enemy."

Arya glared at him, _Blodgharm, come now. Allow him one small victory, is that too much to ask? _She snapped. Arya had little tolerance to spare. Blodgharm suddenly seemed enthusiastic as well, "But then again, so am I. It is about time justice comes for those worthy. Long have the Elves awaited this moment."

_Much better_, Arya calmed. "We will all get our worthy revenge, Blodgharm." Eragon and Blodgharm clasped arms as the Elf-Wolf departed into the hectic crowd. The camp seemed to explode at the news of departure. _So soon_, Arya thought with despair_, not another moments rest. _She struggled to remain positive as Eragon and Saphira's hyperactive thoughts buzzed around her. Arya was looking forward to Galbatorix's fall and Eragon's reign, she is a warrior. This war should be what she _lives_ for. _No,_ her eyes sought Eragon's as he talked to a soldier, _I have a different reason for living now_.

Nasuada's orders: Eragon, Saphira and Arya would depart the very next day in complete uniform. They would be expected at the Varden's camp directly outside of Feinster. From there, they would convey the approved strategy to Orik's, Orrin, and Nasuada's troops. Hopefully, by that time, the rest of the Varden would have arrived. From Feinster they would march towards Dras-Leona and then Uru baen. If the Varden were lucky enough to have made it that far, the army would move towards their final destination, Gil'ead. The one place every one dreaded… the one place every one was trying to get to.

"We might as well get every thing packed and ready." Eragon suggested brightly. Saphira was ecstatic, to say the least. The Dragon could not wait to get out of the cramped area and closer to battle. Arya wondered if Saphira was so eager because of Glaedr's death. _Well not really death_, Arya remembered the Eldunari. When would Glaedr talk to them? When would he be collected enough to realize the worlds peril again? She thought these things over as the happy trio made their way to the tents.

Arya knelt on the ground and gathered her things: Bedroll, sword, quiver, bow, and arrows… and the fairth. Arya stopped and looked at the fairth, sorrow fringing at her mood. Faolin, he was smiling at the bird that had landed on his hand. Though the fairth did not show color, you could see his blond hair shine in the sun, you could see how his bright, inquisitive blue eyes shined happiness and joy. Arya gripped the pocket size fairth so tightly her knuckles went white. Faolin… no, she had not forgotten her first friend, her first real love, and the elf that had stolen her heart from the very beginning. Was it fair? Was it fair to Eragon, who loved her so openly? Arya kept her old feelings and memories of Faolin stowed away under lock and key, but that did not make them disappear.

Where did Faolin go after Durza killed him? Did he go back to the earth, like the Elves believed? Or did he turn into stone like the Dwarves believed. Or did he go to Eragon's God, the one who was supposed to give and take away? Maybe he just _isn't_, she suggested. Maybe Faolin is just _gone. Curse Durza, curse the Empire_. With her eyes shut, she stored the fairth in the pocket of her coat. It would not break; wards had been set on it long ago. Arya stared at her empty hands; she _would_ get Faolin's revenge on the Empire. Arya Drottningu, Princess of the Elves, would make them feel her pain.

"Arya," Eragon spoke softly, seeing her sorrow.

"I'm sorry," Arya got up gracefully from her kneeling position on the floor, " Just thinking."

"Of what?"

"Revenge."

A/N Longer than the last chapter. So yes, I decided to take initiative and move every body on out of the camp. 10 points to whoever can find the quote that I stole from LOTR, except I tweaked it a little.  I'm so bad. Lol. And to who ever is WTH'ing me, its not like I could forget Faolin!


	8. AN

**A/N** I have made a mistake, what a tragedy… -slaps hands-

Long story short, I screwed up. Okay, I wont tell you my excuse but I was practically dead when I wrote the last chapter and my mind was not quite right. And I was confused.

I meant URU BAEN, not Gil'ead.

**I am now going to REDO the epic plan:**

_Eragon, Saphira and Arya fly to the camp in Feinster and regroup the troops there. Mean while, back at the ranch (lol), the Varden are hauling a** to move the entire army into Feinster. The Varden (which includes Orik's army, Orrin and Nasuada's forces) moves forward, conquers and recruits Belatona, Helgrind, and Dras Leona. Arya, Saphira, and Eragon meet up with the Elves, who have taken Gil'ead and exchange plans. There they will attack from both sides, the Varden on the south, and the Elves from the North. _

-Sighs in relief- Sorry about that guys and girls, new chapter up in a day!

Misty

P.s. If I'm sarcastic, sorry, wrestling until two in the morning does that to me. Oh, yeah, sorry for the excuses.


	9. Believing and Knowing

The ever-shifting dust encircled the mob of people gathered in the main plaza of the Varden's camp in Surda. The Clan Priest, Nasuada, King Orrin, and King Orik stood before Saphira, Eragon and Arya. The ring of people gave the party a wide berth because of Saphira and the Guard. Saphira, Arya and Eragon stood silently side-by-side, shoulder touching, minds connected.

Nasuada stepped up to the Trio, "Eragon, I am most confident that my message for Trianna will arrive safely." She handed him a sealed envelope. "Of course," Eragon bowed.

"Saphira, may you fly strong and swift. My look outs tell me that the wind currents flow in our favor." Nasuada curtsied to Saphira, who scales glittered brilliantly.

"Arya, you have the difficult task of keeping our young Rider in line." Nasuada smiled. Arya allowed a small smile, "I shall do what I can, your majesty." Eragon nudged Arya playfully. Orik, it seemed, could not help but flash a knowing smile. Muttering was heard in the crowd; they had never seen the Elf Princess smile before. "Fare thee well, Lady Nasuada." Eragon bowed. "May the stars watch over you." Arya bowed her head.

To Arya's complete dismay; The Clan Priest stepped beside Nasuada. "I would like to say a prayer, to ensure their safety." He announced to the crowd, there was a hum of approval. Arya looked at Eragon who shook his head the tiniest bit, only enough for the superhuman to notice. _Be civil_, she corrected her behavior.

She gritted her teeth as the priests gravelly voice practically echoed throughout the entire camp. He prayed to false, non-existent gods, who had failed to do anything for this world. Even his words seem to die as they reverberated in her ears. The priest's words had no power when it came to the fate of Alagaesia.

One Hour Later…

_I still do not understand_. Eragon was trying to understand Arya's strong dislike, if not hate, towards the Clan Priest. _That,_ _young Rider, is because I have said naught of the subject. _Arya did not want to talk about religion; it was an uncomfortable and touchy subject for her. She knotted her hair in a leather band to keep it from flying around in the wind currents that were currently taking them to Feinster. Saphira was giving them a very peaceful trip.

_Oh, Arya, you know you can tell me anything_. Eragon was trying to keep his impatience suppressed.

_I know_, she tightened her grip on his waist, hugging him. _It is just something I wish not to talk about. _

_Once, I had asked Oromis about the Elves religion. He had explained how since there was no material proof of a supreme being, that the Elves believed in no one_. Eragon admitted.

Arya said nothing.

_I think he is wrong_. Eragon said confidently. _In fact, I know he is wrong._

_How could you say that? What proof do you have, Eragon, to say such things?_ Arya was offended. _What exactly do you believe? What kind of god could sit around and watch his creation, his responsibilities suffer and fall like this? _

_I believe in a God that is true. He does everything for a reason. I'm on a dragon's back with an Elvin Princess, helping save the world of an evil empire, because of God_. Eragon tried to explain.

_Your God._ Arya thought critically.

No, Arya, The God. The Dwarves believe in stone. What can stone do? The Elves believe in nothing at all, just courtesy… and I do not see any progress on your part. But my family, so many others, and I trust and live by a hope that is true. The reason I have not cast a death spell upon myself, or given myself to the Ra'zac is because God gives me the strength and courage to do otherwise. It's not believing, it is knowing. It's trusting completely in one you cannot see, but you can feel.

Arya shuddered slightly at the thought of Eragon killing himself, becoming _gone_, just like Faolin. What about this hope… this faith that Eragon has? He speaks the truth; he has spoken in the Ancient Language. Something tugged at her heart, asking in whispers for something she could not give, her trust.

_If this 'God' exists that you trust so much, then why are we suffering? Why is this world falling to an evil empire?_ Arya fired off.

_Arya, we are not in Heaven yet. Think about it; there never has been just peace in Alagaesia, nor will there ever be. I guess it's always been this way, a world that's full of love and hate._ Eragon told her softly.

That struck a chord; it was true. Was that not what Eragon's religion entailed? You live by this Gods rules and you go to Heaven, a place of bliss. From the beginning of Alagaesia's history, there has never been true peace and understanding. Was this real?

_Besides_, Eragon turned in the saddle and sat backwards facing her. He laced her hands in his; _I am not suffering so much now._

_Nor am I_. Arya gave a little. It was true. If this God had never brought this upon the world, then her and Eragon would have never met. That made Arya frown. And Faolin would have never died. That made Arya look away from Eragon; how could she do this to him? Eragon does not deserve this.

He turned her face back to him, his eyes troubled. _I hate it when you do that, you know_.

_Do what?_

_Look torn and unhappy whenever we get time like this._ Eragon's eyes searched Arya's for the truth.

_You,_ Arya kissed him, _are enough._

_Always_, she promised herself.

**Two Hours Later…**

The smell of smoke and construction intoxicated the atmosphere the three warriors glided through. The air was a clouded gray that made one feel unsanitary by just touching it. Eragon and Arya prepared to use magic; this setting made them feel uneasy.

_All is well_, Saphira assured. _It is only the aftermath of our last battle._

But the pair did not relax.

_Greetings, Rider_. Trianna sent to all three of them, yet only addressing Eragon. Saphira and Arya agreed together.

_Greetings, Trianna, what news from your part?_ Eragon questioned the lead Spell Caster as Saphira descended gracefully from the sky towards the camp.

_Nothing new, Shur'tugal, _we_ are just so happy that _you_ have come back._ Arya could almost hear the sap drip from Trianna's voice. Saphira snorted, fire jetting from her nose, _I am sure _she _is happy for his arrival_.

_Indeed_, Arya admitted grimly. Trianna and her would definitely have a 'discussion' when the time was appropriate.

Saphira landed and was immediately surrounded by awe-inspired soldiers. Eragon dismounted first and took Arya's hand to help her down, even though she was perfectly able. Whispering started circling amongst the on-lookers as Eragon kept her hand as she smiled up at him. The reason was Arya smiling was the reaction on Trianna's face as Eragon interlaced their fingers.

"Out of the way you luts!" Jormundur shoved his way through the muttering crowd, followed by the lead Kull and the one person was looking forwards to seeing, Roran. Roran clasped his brother in a bear hug; "I am relieved to see you here in one piece, brother. You have kept us waiting." With that Roran turned to Arya and bowed, "Princess, I hope you fare well?"

Eragon took her hand again as she replied, "Indeed I do."

"So I see," Roran responded with a grin. His grin reminded Arya on Eragon's, they were more alike than they knew.

Saphira, Eragon, and Arya were bombarded with greetings, questions, and news. Eragon and Arya kept closed to each other the entire time. Most of the questions were directed towards Saphira and Eragon so Arya took the time to observe.

They had recruited near 400 soldiers from Feinster and the surrounding small towns. Nasuada would be pleased. Blodhgarm had already arrived and united with the rest of the Elvin Spell Weavers; who were standing far away in the back of the crowd, looking at Arya intensely. _What?_ Arya asked sharply.

_It is not wise, Arya Drottningu._ Blodhgarm counseled. Arya knew he was referring to Eragon.

_I love him, Blodhgarm_. Arya defended.

_It should not matter; you know that. Your destiny should not mingle with his._ The other Spell Weavers seemed to nod in agreement.

_You know nothing of my destiny_, Arya restrained herself, trying to be calm. But she could not help the doubt and uncertainty that came along with his words. Maybe he was right?

_I know that is it not with the future leader of Alagaesia_. His icy eyes bored into hers from afar.

_You, Spell Weaver, will do well to remember your place. Or shall I come over there and remind you myself?_ Arya made herself dangerous. She would not let this Elf-wolf know how much the truth of his words hurt.

_No, I forget my place, Arya Drottningu._ Blodhgarm corrected himself and lowered his unnerving eyes.

_What has gone amiss?_ Eragon squeezed her hand, noticing her and Blodhgarm exchange icy glares.

When Arya said nothing Eragon guessed for himself, _He does not approve_. It was not a question.

_It does not matter what he thinks_. Arya stiffened as an all too familiar conscience tried to pry past her mental walls. _I will return shortly_. She dropped Eragon's hand and swiftly weaved her way through the crowd that scrambled to get out of her way.

_Do not doubt yourself. Your intentions are well._ Arya prepared herself for the oncoming conversation. The intruder's trail was easy to follow. Vile, lustful, and jealous emotions wafted from Arya's target, who sulked in her tent. Arya found herself standing before a grimy tent and walked in with out asking permission; startling the woman who was facing the opposite wall. Trianna. "Oh my, Princess Arya," Trianna stumbled and curtsied. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She feigned her polite demeanor.

"Save it, Trianna," Arya lowered her voice to a menacing whisper. "I am not as unintelligent as you think I am. I hear your thoughts, I feel your emotions."

"My mind is blocked!" Trianna sputtered. Arya noted how she did not defend her false pretenses.

"Oh, Trianna, I am so much stronger than you. Do you honestly believe that your excuse of a shield could block me? Even if you're not distracted by your childish jealousy, I can over take you." Arya disliked being cruel, but Trianna needed to know what she was up against.

Trianna, in turn, blushed a deep red. "Please, You Majesty, do not kill me now. For now is when the Varden needs me the most."

The normal Arya emerged, "I do not wish to harm you, but to remind you of your place and duty."

Trianna nodded, but kept shifting her weight and wringing the hem of her dress nervously.

"Speak."

" Princess Arya, I do not wish to offend you. But if my place is protecting the Varden with spells… what is yours?" Trianna did not dare meet her eyes.

Instead of killing the Varden's most talented Spell Caster, Arya simply spoke the truth, "protecting the future leader of Alagaesia."

Trianna nodded and curtsied deep, "And I, as Eragon's diminished admirer, "They exchanged a smiled, "Would have it no other way."

With that, Arya took her leave and was confronted by Saphira. _That was rather entertaining. _

Arya shook her head, releasing the leather band encasing her hair_. Leave it to you, Saphira Brightscales, to find the humor in that conversation. _

I_ was not referring to the conversation, but to your way of dealing with your own jealousy_.

Arya stopped in her tracks and looked Saphira in the eye; _this is my way of dealing with doubt I suppose, Saphira. I feel as if I have made a dreadful mistake. Blodhgarm even said that our fates were not to mingle. _

_And do you, Arya Drottningu, believe in fate?_

_Why do you ask me this? _

_You seem to worry too much about something you claim to not believe in._

Arya remembered Eragon's words, "_its not believing, it is knowing."_

_Saphira, I do not 'believe' in fate. Fate is when things happen for a reason. _

_Are you and Eragon meant to be? Did Faolin die for a reason? Did Eragon stumble upon my egg for a reason? Did he find you in Gil'ead for a reason? Is your love's strength being tested for a reason? _Saphira's words revived something deep inside Arya… hope.

Maybe this was not madness after all.

Maybe, just maybe, Eragon was right. There was a true hope after all.

A/N I posted this, deleted, edited, re-edited, and now I'm posting it again. I just had way too many errors. I apologize for any confusion.


	10. Revelation

"Hard day?" Eragon grinned at the exhausted Arya. She sat on a hillside over looking Feinster, facing the south East section of the Beor Mountains. The sunlight glinted off her dark hair, making quite a majestic scene with the setting sun smiling up at her from the left.

"Yes," Arya whipped around to face him, "Keeping the ladies off you has been quite a problem. Or, rather, a particular lady."

"Really? Would this particular lady be a lead Spell Caster?" Eragon asked, sitting next to her.

"Yes, Trianna and I had a discussion." Arya sighed, twirling a loivissa absent-mindedly.

"You should not worry about her. She holds no interest for me." Eragon laid back on the grass.

"It does not matter anymore. She will not be bothering you nor me again."

"What did you do? Kill her? That girl is as stubborn as my uncle Garrow's donkey. I still have to deliver that message to her, you know." Eragon played with a strand of Arya's long hair.

Arya bit her lip to keep from laughing, though that did not stop her smile from reaching her bell-like voice, " I did not kill her. Though the thought came to mind."

"Saphira told me that you two talked afterwards. Not like that stubborn dragon gave me any details, of course. She only gave me a tiny snippet of the conversation. '_You will have to talk to her yourself_,' he mimicked her deep voice almost perfectly. "So cough up, what is bothering you?"

He knew her so well. Her emotions must have given her away. "Why must you doubt? Doubt only leads to false assumptions. Do not worry about things that you have no ability to control."

"But that is what's bothering me!" Arya exclaimed, crushing the loivissa in her anger. "I cannot seem to control my own destiny! Now that you mentioned this fate… this hope, I feel as if my life is out of control. I look back on certain events in my life and realize that there really was a reason for them! There really is a method to this madness…" Arya's eyes watered as the truth of her words sunk deep within.

Before Eragon could respond Arya was off again. "Sometimes I just look up at the sky," she motioned to the Beor Mountains, with the sun setting behind it. "And just cannot help but wonder… where does my help come from?"

"Can you feel it?" Eragon asked as he sat up. "Can you feel the pull? Can you feel Him asking for your trust?"

"Yes," Arya admitted. "I feel it."

"There it is! That is your proof, Arya." Eragon exclaimed. "It's not believing," He began. "It is knowing." Arya and him finished together. Eragon felt their words mentally as well.

" I know that we are not alone." Eragon met her eyes.

"We are not alone." Arya whispered, remembering the conversation they both had many days ago back in Ellesmera. How they both did not know what to do. She had felt so lost and desolate, seeking Eragon's solace. Arya looked at the Eragon; they found the way to peace. Eragon helped her.

She felt the tug at her heart. Asking… silently begging for access. _I give myself_. Arya prayed silently, giving up, taking the leap of faith, and keeping her gaze on the mountains before her. _Take my life. I no longer have control. This situation is beyond me. _Arya continued her desperate search of the distant hills. _I need your help_. _It is too much responsibility for me._ Her nerves were tingling; adrenaline seemed to be set on high. _I am begging you._ Her pride felt squashed and sore already.

Dreadful waiting… Then Arya's life seemed to flash before her searching eyes; Her mother's denial and rejection, Faolin's death, the cruel torture in Gil'ead. Hate built up to an unfathomable rage, rage turned into exhaustion, exhaustion turned in to sorrow… and sorrow turned into acceptance. A single tear slid down her cheek as peace finally accepted her. _This is my last resort. _It finally dawned on her; it was okay. Everything; the war, the deaths, the shortage of money, and the desperate acts of crime was okay; because it all adds up to nothing in the end.

Arya felt a presence, something so real it _scared_ her. Though she could not see, she knew and trusted the God who finally made peace within her heart. It still hurt, she still ached, but her scarred heart was on the mend.

"It's okay." She whispered to herself, her eyes still wet from the Revelation.

"Yes," Eragon took her hand, his own eyes red. "You have a fresh start. You can forgive."

"But not forget." Arya closed her eyes and remembered the tragedy that had altered the path of her life.

"Never forget." Eragon agreed, understanding the meaning behind her words. "The scars remain, no matter how much we forgive."

"The scars remain." Arya murmured. Faolin would always leave a mark on her heart, no matter how new it was. Now, she had learned to confront it. That obviously came with acceptance. But now was the hardest part of dealing with fate… now she had to forgive… and move on.


	11. Wards

A/N Yeah, I'm not planning on converting all of Alagaesia into Christianity, just so you know. I have gotten some iffy reviews regarding that subject. No, no, no, I'm not going to have Eragon and Arya turn all missionary on us. That was not the point. The point is that Arya now believes in something greater than herself. And if anything, it brought both Eragon and Arya closer together. And they have something to hope for. Got it? Don't hate me, I was honestly a wreck at school today because some reviews I had were border line flames…. Don't put me in clinical depression. One more thing, this chapter is more action than romance. The story needs to move… so this is my idea of a 'shove'. Lots more spoken dialogue.

"Barzul!" Arya cursed under her breath. She was sliding noiselessly across Belatona's outer city wall trying to find a way past the gate. Eragon was supposed to be coming from the other side and they would meet in the middle, but he obviously became occupied. _Saphira, where is he?_ Arya asked worriedly. Visions of Eragon getting caught and captured wafted through her mind. The pit of her stomach was in turmoil at the very thought.

_He should be there._ Saphira replied, obscured from sight in the dark clouds over the city. Arya started rock climbing up the wall, swiftly so she could get out of view. Even though it was midnight and her clothes were black; the stars were bright enough to blow her cover. Her hands finally touched the top ledge and she nimbly jumped on top of the wall and laid down flat. Arya breathed a sigh of relief, resting her head on her folded arms. _Hurry up_, she shot out mentally. The only sound was the heavy breathing of the two old gate guards.

_Do not move_. Eragon whispered. Relief washed through her. A whoosh of air breezed in front of Arya, and Eragon appeared before her, lying flat. "What took you so long?" She was so irritated that she spoke aloud, slicing the silence.

"Shhh," He murmured against her harsh whisper. "I was checking the city walls and they have wards around them." In a way, the fool had a point; they were here to make sure everything was in proper order for the Varden's siege.

Honestly though…

That was it? He had Arya worried out her mind for _that_?

_I could have told you that myself!_ She yelled mentally. Eragon winced as it ricocheted around his skull.

_I know that, Princess._ Arya flinched; he never called her Princess. Eragon knew that she despised the title. _I wanted to tell you that an amateur definitely did not cast those wards. _Eragon's temper returned to normal.

_What are you suggesting?_ This was cause for worry indeed.

_Another Shade maybe?_ Eragon suggested.

_Not likely. Think bigger._ Arya concentrated.

_A Shade is pretty big_. Eragon grumbled.

_Do you think that maybe…_ Arya trailed off.

_No_, Eragon rebuked immediately, _we would have sensed them if they had gotten so close. _

He was referring to Murtagh and Thorn running errands for Galbatorix; protecting the remaining cities.

Arya whispered a spell meant for detecting wards. Power surged through her body, Eragon was correct; multiple, complex wards were set around Belatona. _Why?_ Arya wondered. _Why Belatona._ You would believe Galbatorix would be directing all of his attention on Gil'ead and Uru Baen.

She immediately tried to counter the wards. Meanwhile, Eragon searched for the minds of magicians and Spell Casters.

_One;_ Arya counted her progress of released wards.

_Three, _Eragon smiled, he was killing the magic users. _Must this be a competition_? Arya asked herself.

_Only kill the most powerful_, Arya did not want to start a war with just the two of them.

_Done,_ Arya and Eragon exclaimed after a few more moments.

They heard the rush of wings and leapt of the wall, hand in hand. Saphira caught them from underneath. _Good work_, she complemented.

_**The Next Morning**_…

"A series of complex wards, you say?" Jormundur mused as Arya and Eragon reported their findings to the counsel.

"Yes, sir, and many magic users. Though we managed to kill off the ones that deemed a threat to us." Eragon explained patiently, even though the entire counsel had heard the entire quest many times over.

"We should strike while the iron's hot." Jormundur proposed. "The Varden has almost completed the move and Belatona should not be given too much forewarning." The aged counsel members nodded in agreement. King Orrin and Orik and Lady Nasuada also made up the audience.

"Your majesty, if I may." Arya tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Do you really need the three of us here for this battle?" She motioned to Eragon and Saphira.

She got many unintelligent looks. " Considering, Belatona is quite smaller in comparison to Feinster."

"Why do you ask?" Nasuada asked.

" It has come to my attention that there are other skilled magic users against us. The person who set the wards upon Belatona was not an amateur. My opinion is that the sooner we communicate to Queen Islanzadi, the better." Arya tried to explain.

"No." Jormundur rebuked. "Absolutely not. It would be foolish of us to send away Eragon and Saph---" Nasuada cut him off.

" Arya, I understand your apprehension. But please, let us not risk any more lives than we need to." Nasuada gently debated. "We need Eragon and Saphira here."

"Fine." Arya's tone was final, "Then I shall go."

"What? No." Eragon was alarmed. There was no way in hell Arya was traveling alone across Empire territory.

"Eragon, be reasonable." Nasuada put her head in her hands, tired of arguing.

"No, My Lady, if there is one issue I will not budge on, it would be having Arya travel across enemy territory with no back up." His voice was even.

"Eragon," Arya caught his eyes, " Lady Nasuada has already stated; they only need you." The double meaning of her words was a slap in the face to Eragon.

Eragon flinched, "Then they obviously do not know how much of an asset you are to the Varden." He said this softly, only to Arya, taking her hand. _I cannot bring myself to letting you cross the Empire without me._

_Then tell her. _Arya urged him, impatient. _Assure her that the Varden can handle this battle by themselves. Or, you could just trust in my abilities. Remember when I explained to you that I am not like your weak human women? _

"I wish to go." Eragon spoke to the stunned council room. " My opinion stands with Arya's. We need to communicate with the Elves as soon as possible. The possibility of another Shade or any other force as strong as these wards needs to be dealt with immediately."

"Do not test me." Nasuada snapped. "Eragon, you know as well as I, Arya can handle herself."

"My—" Eragon protested.

"I said no." Nasuada's eyes flashed. "As your liege lord I forbid you to accompany Arya on her mission."

Eragon sat back, defeated. Arya squeezed his hand. "Arya, you may leave and take the letter I have prepared in advance for Queen Islanzadi whenever you are ready."

Arya stood up and walked out of the tent. Eragon's usual warm features hardened. "Is there anything else you need me for? If not, then I would prefer to leave."

Orik nodded Eragon's leave. Taking pity.

**Half Hour Later…**

" I should just go with you. Blast what Nasuada thinks is right." Eragon was leaning up against Arya's tent wall. Arya finished packing her saddlebag and stood, "Please, for me, do not be foolish." She dropped the saddlebag as he quickly crossed the tent space and held her tightly. "I will, for you." He murmured. "And will you be extra careful, for me?"

"For you," She agreed, resting against him. "What am I supposed to do with out you here?" Eragon whispered into her hair, "Who is going to keep me out of the trouble Saphira over looks?"

Arya brushed his hair across his forehead, " I do not know. It's just another thing for me to worry about. You always seem to find trouble."

Eragon leaned his forehead against hers, they both smiled. "You are probably right."

"I should leave as soon as possible." Arya sighed. Eragon kissed her, it was definitely more urgent than the tentative kisses they usually shared. Arya moved her hands to the back of his head and his to her waist. _Maybe I shouldn't leave_, Arya thought selfishly.

_Enough already! _Saphira butted in after a while. _Arya will get about one league away by sundown by the rate this departure is going. _

They pulled away and Eragon took Arya's saddlebag for her and secured it on the white mare that would carry her across the empire. "Come back quickly." Eragon gave her a leg up into the saddle.

"I will do what I can." Arya gathered the reigns.

"Bye," Eragon spoke aloud. Trying to make their goodbye look normal to the bystanders. _I love you_. He whispered mentally.

"Bye," Arya played along. _I love you, too_. She galloped off. Eragon cast wards around her in a low whisper.

Eragon went back to his tent with Saphira. _Now what am I supposed to do?_ Eragon huffed, lying down in a heap on the cot.

_I suppose what any other separated, star-crossed lover would do. Lie around and become a moaning git? S_aphira suggested.

_That sounds about right_, Eragon mused; pulling a pillow over his face.

**A/N Bet you didn't see that coming. Not a cliffhanger… so unlike me. This is kind of a bridge chapter I guess. Guys, I think this is starting to sound like a teenage girl fan fiction… my worst nightmare. Maybe it was just all the dialogue and goodbye mush. Maybe? Oh yeah! I just wanted to give a shout out to Draumr Kodthr and SceneKidChaos (three cheers for babbling!) for their amazing and supportive reviews. Even when I wrote a crud filled chapter, they always pointed out whatever good they found in it. **

**Also xLilypadsx, yummyfood, tsuyu ryu, and many others.**


	12. Taking the Bait

_**"They feed the crocodile in the hope that he will eat them last."**_

— _**Winston Churchill**_

_**T**__**wo Days Later…**_

Eragon tightened the heavy shoulder strap on Saphira's armor, absent-mindedly. Arya had been gone for two days now. If all went well and fast, she should be with the Elves by now. It was either that, or she was held up, maybe even caught in Uru Baen territory. The strap Eragon was tightening slipped and snapped against Saphira's tender underarm at the horrendous thought; causing a jet of fire to come blasting out Saphira's nostrils.

_Sorry_, Eragon grimaced at the scorched terrain.

_Sorry?_ Saphira snorted, fire spitting along the ground like saliva. _That's rich. You have been thinking of nothing else. If you were truly 'sorry' you would stop worrying needlessly about Arya, and concentrate on the situation at hand. What do you think she would say? We fly to battle in an hour!_

Eragon fixed the strap in silence. Saphira was correct; Arya could handle herself. He was being a fool.

After they were both garbed in proper uniforms, Eragon could not help but step over to his washbasin. "Draumr Kopa." After a few moments, only darkness appeared, except for a white horse and its gorgeous rider. They were cantering along at an easy pace along the invisible ground. Since Eragon had never been to Uru Baen, or anywhere near it, he could not see the terrain.

Eragon breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away from the washbasin, satisfied. She was safe.

_**Three Hours Later… **_

Brisingr gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight as Eragon and Saphira surged ahead of the Varden's army. Belatona had a good sized army, equipped with catapults and low-level Spell Casters, since Eragon took the experienced ones out already. _Easy!_ Saphira beckoned to the frightened enemies with a mighty roar that shook the earth below the soldiers shaking feet. The Varden cheered as a group of Spell Casters slumped to the ground, dead. Eragon smiled, this was easy.

Saphira spiraled downwards, fire streaming from her mighty jaws.

Burning flesh seemed to vaporize in the air.

Dwarves, humans and the Elvish Spell Weavers of the Varden came in a terrible force. Eragon and Saphira patrolled the borders, keeping an eye out for any unwelcome visitors, while killing off the rest of any magic users that posed a threat. Horses thundered across the plain as the second group of the Varden's forces moved in. The battle was going smoothly, Eragon's wards around Nasuada and Orik were hardly drawing upon his strength. Though just in case, Saphira's mind kept linked to his. Hours passed by, the clanging of swords ceasing over time. They were winning. It was hardly a fight. They had been fighting for no more than an hour when Eragon felt the majority of energy leaving Belatona's army. Uneasiness settled over the Dragon and Rider poised high over the clouds.

After a while Eragon finally was reached. _What news?_ Trianna asked sweetly.

_Nothing new. _Eragon kept his reply curt.

_We should be done within the hour then_. Trianna bowed out.

_Saphira, land_. _There is no use of us up here._

_Those frightened soldiers put up a decent fight_, Saphira observed the bloody battleground as they descended rapidly.

_Roran?_ Eragon reached his brother anxiously, scanning the field for any sign of him.

_It's about time you came down here, hiding up in the clouds an' all_. Roran was checking for any sign of life in a dwarf soldier.

_Good to see you too. _Eragon dismounted quickly as Nasuada and King Orik greeted them from horseback. Instead of being joyous, their faces reflected what Eragon and Saphira were feeling… it was too easy. "We may have lost brethren in this battle, but by the looks of it," Nasuada nodded towards the large group of captives, " our number of men will be replenished, if not more." Eragon knew she was only trying to keep their minds entertained, instead of concentrating on this poor excuse for a battle.

Orik did not seem as concerned about numbers, " This calls for a celebration tonight. I may have a good few casks of ale that run in you favor Saphira." His eyes twinkled at the memory of a drunken dragon.

_Indeed_, Saphira responded dully, trying to keep her dignity. Eragon patted her shoulder, grinning.

The large group of volunteers rounded up the remaining Belatonian's on hobbled chains. Another group gathered the dead Varden soldiers and gave them a proper burial. Eragon and Saphira helped her the surrendered women, children, and soldiers out of the city. Saphira herded them like sheep.

_We should not be too relaxed tonight_, Eragon thought grimly.

_It was too easy of a fight_, Saphira added, as she snapped at a curious dog that came to close.

_We snapped at the bait_. Eragon gritted his teeth in frustration.

_Galbatorix gave it to us._ They both finished together. If history ever taught the pair something, it was that Galbatorix did not give anything up with out a fight, especially a city so close to his own.

Only hell was to be expected from this...


	13. Darkness

_**"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."**_

--- Terry Pratchett

"_Then I shall go,"_ Arya cursed her previous words out loud. The everlasting forest seemed to clutch her tightly in its thickening darkness. Shivering, she pulled her cloak tighter around her slim figure, hoping to become invisible to whatever evil

lurked amongst the same trees. The mare snorted uneasily while she sidestepped around a hidden stump. Elves could see clearly on all but the darkest of nights; Arya admitted to herself that this was one of those dark nights. _Go on_, Arya

encouraged to the mares' conscience; becoming too unnerved to speak aloud again.

A stray branch cracked, causing Arya to nearly leap out of her seat. _Relax_, , it was just the horse.

A lone owl hooted in the distance, answered in a whisper by another, even farther away. Then came a sound so eerie, it had Arya praying for protection fiercely. Whispering, high pitched and low seemed to swarm around her. Sweat broke out

upon her brow; she started shaking. The mare pranced in place; sweat lathering its neck and chest, sensing the apprehension of her rider. "Ganga!" Arya begged the horse aloud. The horse, from deep within its soul, knew the true meaning of the

ancient language in its heart, even though it had never heard the words before. The white mares mane and tail streamed behind her as she sped and weaved through the dense forest… fear almost blinding both horse and rider.

**Eragon…**

Four days filled with apprehension and fear, and still, no word from Arya. Eragon could not see her in the Dream Stare any longer.

He could do three things: Blame this on Nasuada. Go after her. Pretend that everything is fine and continue with the battle plans. Eragon felt like choosing option one, but he knew the second was more practical.

_You know what she would want_. Saphira butted in, referring to Arya.

_Arya_, Eragon said tensely, gripping the sick he had been poking the fire with_, has sacrificed too much on our behalf_. Referring to her torture in Gil'ead. The stick in his hand snapped in two, taking the brunt of his anger.

_Arya can handle herself_. Saphira seemed impatient, _she does not need our help, and she is most likely fine. _

Enraged, Eragon's true anger showed itself, _you are just jealous! You were always jealous of my feelings for Arya. From the beginning you were always against it. You just want me for yourself! _Fuming, Eragon blushed and sank down on the cot. After he

regained his breath, he realized what he had just said to his best friend, his one constant. _I-I,_ he stuttered, shocked.

_Do you truly want me to answer that?_ Saphira questioned, trying to cover her hurt.

_Yes! I mean no! I mean… Saphira I did not mean that in the least_. Eragon stumbled, desperate, coming over the edge.

_I know_, Saphira laid her head down on the ground, closing her eyes. _The tension is breaking all of us. _

_Let Arya be safe. _Eragon prayed, a silent tear splashed onto his pillow_. Please be okay. _He whispered to just Arya.

**Arya…**

The dawn was rising; light was coming. More snapping branches came from behind the fleeing horse and rider. _Fram! Ganga!_ Arya willed the tiring horse. They had been running half the night from a mysterious force. A branch whipped across her

face, blood seeping from the wound. The whispering came again; the thing was close. Arya did not dare look behind her. _Drottningu… Drottningu…Drottningu_. The whispers pummeled around her.

Arya was shocked; this thing knew her. _Jierda!_ The rock Arya concentrated on flew behind her, hitting something solid. The things footsteps were heavy; it's breathing disgusting and ragged. "No!" Arya cried out. The horse could simply not keep up;

it slowed, heaving. Arya jabbed her heels into the mare's sides; but no progress was made. The normal bred horse was spent, dying. Before Arya could leap off something grabbed the horse, making the poor mare scream bloody murder. Arya was

thrown backwards and slammed into something hard and hot… her world went black.

**I don't know, I think it's time you guys finally got a good cliffhanger. I have a HUGE double dual wrestling match in an hour, so I don't have time to continue until I kick a** on the mat and get back late tonight. Until then, _Misty_**


	14. Everlasting Sleep

_"____All that is glitter__ is not gold; Not all those who wander are lost;. The old that is strong does not wither"_

The first aspect of reality Arya could feel again was pain.

At first, she just lay there; too exhausted to care where she was, her head throbbing. But why was her head hurting? Arya's eyes flew open; the thing had caught her. She remembered now. All the whispering and snapping branches, the horses bloody scream as its back legs were torn away from the poor mares body. As she rapidly surveyed her surroundings, she found herself locked in a concrete cell. One bed, one door, one barred window, and one chain connecting Arya to the bed was all that occupied the room.

It was night again; the stars and moon gave little light to the black cell. When the pounding in Arya's head decreased to where she could hear, the whispering came back. This time it was soft, pleading, like the voice was begging her for something. Ragged breathing and heavy footsteps reverberated in the hallway. It was the _thing_. Arya scrunched as far away from the door as the chain would allow. The thing pounded on the door with a key, Arya braced herself bravely as the door flew open… and screamed. Yanking against the chain as her worst nightmare became true.

Eragon…

Six days. Six long and relentless days; still no word from Arya. By this time, the Varden started marching northeast towards Helgrind. A three days march for an army as big as the Varden's. Saphira's wing thumped intricately to Eragon's heartbeat, making a very interesting pattern. Six days, Eragon's thoughts had hardly strayed from Arya.

Dragon and Rider kept a keen eye out for trouble as their army marched towards the next step in their strategy to overthrow the Empire.

_Violet, indigo, blue and green, yellow, orange and red; these are the colors you have seen after the storm has fled. What am I? _

_Saphira_, Eragon said flatly. _Its not helping_.

Saphira fell silent.

_Arya…_

His long blonde hair was matted, dirty. His bright blue and friendly eyes were blood red, menacing. His clothes hung in scraps on his body, torn and ruined.

Faolin. No, not Faolin, a demon.

Arya could not look at him. All she could do was shrink behind the flimsy bed as she trembled in fear. What had Galbatorix done to him? Faolin was supposed to be dead and in Heaven, not stuck on earth as a creature from hell. Was this some sort of cruel punishment? Arya raised her head from her hands to look at this demon, he growled at her like an animal. "You haven't eating anything Drottningu." Motioning with a sickly pale hand at the uneaten moldy bread and tainted water.

_Drottningu…Drottningu…Drottningu_, the whispers returned. Arya gagged at the retched sound of the demons voice addressing her. Faolin had the voice of a martingale or even a starling. How could this have happened? To respond to the monsters statement she just shook her head quickly, trying not to throw up. "He's coming for you soon. You must eat."

As if things could get worse another presence smacked into Arya's mental wall, hard. This person was powerful, even more so than herself. She could hardly hear the approaching person's footsteps over Faolin's, or the demons, ragged breathing. Though when the demon did, he immediately retreated to the back of her cell, his breathing increasing, making it almost impossible for Arya to hear. An eerie shadow loomed by the door, a soft, snake like voice whispered in a harsh, ugly language to the demon. Arya stopped crying, breathing and struggling… she knew that voice.

Galbatorix.

It had all come to this. She was going to die. Whatever façade of hope Arya pretended to have at that moment vanished as he stepped into the cell, his sharp all-knowing eyes pierced hers.

Galbatorix twisted and pried at Arya's mind block until he had her wreathing, but Arya was strong, she did not let him in. "Why, Shade, must you be so incompetent as to not make the Elf eat?" Galbatorix's voice was low, deadly. _A Shade_? Arya looked at the Demon Faolin once more. "He is not a Shade." Arya snapped her mouth shut… did she just speak aloud?

Galbatorix gave her a smug grin that had Arya cringing on the inside, "No, he is not just a Shade. He is an enhanced version. My most recent creation."

Creation? No, this was more destruction.

"I had no choice, Alfa-kona. When you and Eragon started killing off Shades, I had no choice. He's made an impressive addition to my forces." Galbatorix looked at Arya as if for the first time, "As you can tell."

Arya pictured the forest scene. Instead of a mad bear or any other creature of the dark, it had been a mutated super Shade, Faolin crashing through the forest. The thought of the Shade chasing her through the forest half the night was horrifying; it was a good thing she had not seen him then. "How do you know about the Shade at Feinster?" Surely he hadn't caught the Shade's rogue spirits.

He then gave her a look that an adult should give an adolescent," You think I would not know every dark force that is created in this world?" With out speaking he had Arya pinned against the wall with magic, the chain snapped. "You are just like any other Elf, _Alfa-Kona_; blind and stubborn. I control the spirits." Alfa-Kona was just like calling a Queen a commoner.

Instead of being afraid or offended, Arya dared to say, "I know you real secret."

"Speak," Galbatorix's voice was terrible, his black eyes scrutinized her face, as if reading her soul.

"The Eldunari. You stole the Dragon's souls and you use them for evil. For your own good!" Arya was angry. If she was going to die, she was going to be heard first.

His expression was terrible, "You _know_." Arya shuddered at his voice.

"Yes, I know about the Eldunari." She tried to make herself sound brave. She was slammed back into the wall. "No! You fool! You know where Glaedr's Eldunari is!" He accused, outraged.

Arya did not know what to say. "Where is it?" Galbatorix's face was almost twitching in anger.

"I do not know."

"Liar!" He cried. This man was truly crazy. "Thorta du ilumeo!"

Arya said nothing. Now that Galbatorix commanded her in the Ancient Language, she could not lie. She looked at Faolin, the super Shade, his face was blank, emotionless.

"Speak!" She was slammed against the wall, but her lips were pressed tightly together.

"Why do you need it?" Arya spat.

"Why do I need it?" Galbatorix's laugh was hideous, "I need only one more Heart of Heart's to make the last egg hatch."

He need not explain more. Arya knew the rest. Galbatorix would use the Eldunari again to make the newborn grow unnaturally fast once it was forced to hatch, then use the Eldunari to increase its power. Eragon, Saphira and the Varden would be defeated. And Arya would not be there to die with her friends. No, she would die here in this concrete cell with nothing to lose.

At that moment, in the cold cell, held captive by Galbatorix; Arya wished for Eragon.

"And since Durza was incapable of beating the information out you. I shall do it myself." The madman exclaimed, throwing Arya across the room towards the door.

_She thought of Eragon's smile, how it lightened even the darkest of places…_

Galbatorix dragged her out the door and into a hot and dark room… his torture chamber. He had one just like it in Gil'ead; she knew this place very well. Arya started to shut her body down as it was stretched across two boards, Galbatorix barking out orders to his slaves.

_She remembered their last goodbye, and how good it felt to say 'I love you' once more in her life. _

Arya smelled burning flesh, only to realize that it was her own.

_She thought of their passionate kiss, the only one that she has ever had. The only one she will ever get…_

Galbatorix howled in impatient rage as Arya's mind block stayed strong. "Oil!" He shouted, he knew his time was short before Arya fell into the Elf Coma and became useless to him.

_She smiled at the memory of Saphira's relentless riddles…_

The smile Arya had on her face only made Galbatorix torture her harder. Arya heard screams, only to recognize them as her own.

Her light began to fade… time was running out.

As pain over took any other feeling, one emotion was clear. Love.

Arya thanked God for the love Eragon and her shared, no matter how short.

"Deyja" Galbatorix finally whispered in disgust. (Die)

Arya's eyes closed into an everlasting sleep.

_Miles Away…_

Eragon bolted up right in his bed, "No!" He yelled. Saphira roared in agony and anger, awakening the whole army.


	15. Eragon

Eragon…

Helgrind, Dras-Leona, Uru Baen… Galbatorix… they were all going to fall, die, and be destroyed. Eragon and Saphira were an unstoppable force as they powered the Varden towards The Gates of Death. The soldiers and inhabitants of the city quaking in fear at the massive size of the Varden's army, the scorching heat coming from Saphira's massive jaws, burning the lost city. Under Eragon's iron grip the wards protecting the city crumbled like burnt bread. Houses burned like kindling, tall building's feel like tooth picks.

There was no famous Eragon battle cry, there was no challenging roar from Saphira. There was no mercy from King Orik, Orrin and Nasuada, they all wanted revenge. And nothing would stop them.

Galbatorix would pay for his crime. They would make him beg for their mercy… and he would receive none. Just like he had given none to Arya, beloved friend, daughter and lover.

The gates broke on their hinges, the Varden rushed in. Slaying anything living. Eragon and Saphira landed, Eragon wielded Brisingr with fury. He dismounted and both man and Dragon surged forward. As Eragon decapitated a soldier, his foot crushed something. He looked down and his breath caught, a loivissa.

"_Yes, Trianna and I had a discussion." Arya sighed, twirling a loivissa absent-mindedly. _

"_You should not worry about her. She holds no interest for me." Eragon lay back on the grass. _

"_It does not matter anymore." _

"_What did you do? Kill her? That girl is as stubborn as my uncle Garrow's donkey. I still have to deliver that message to her, you know." Eragon played with a strand of Arya's long hair. _

_Arya bit her lip to keep from laughing, though that did not stop her smile from reaching her bell-like voice, " I did not kill her. Though the thought came to mind."_

Another soldier steeped in front of Eragon, taking his brothers place. In his rage Eragon yelled ,"Brisingr!" And stabbed the screaming man with the flaming blade.

Yes, revenge will be sweet.

A/N. This is WAY short, but I think you all probably hate me from the last chapter; I just want to show you all that all is NOT lost. :P yay for foreshadowing. This will only make it better you guys.


	16. A Job

_Maybe we're just trying to hard_. Eragon spoke to Saphira. Eragon was crawling around the outer walls of Dras-Leona. They had just defeated Helgrind the day before, and before any one could say anything Saphira and Eragon took off for Dras-Leona; thirsty for more.

_I doubt it_. Saphira objected, she joined her strength with his and Eragon kept trying to disassemble the heavy wards around the city. _How did Arya do this_? Saphira grunted. Eragon's grip on the concrete wall tightened, concentrating only on his job.

A job.

Was that what this was now? With Arya gone it seemed all the enjoyment of 'midnight ward detectors' vanished. It was like all that made Eragon happy and hopeful vanished.

You still have me. Saphira assured him quickly.

I still have you. Eragon allowed a small feeling of satisfaction numb a little of his pain. The wards crumbled.

_**A Couple Hours Later…**_

"Eragon," Nasuada acknowledged the numbed mans presence. "Saphira," She curtsied to the sullen Dragon standing in the middle of the Varden's camp.

"The wards are gone." Eragon reported stiffly. His adrenaline rush of earlier was gone, leaving him drained, exhausted.

Orik walked up and clapped him on the shoulder, shaking Eragon out of his stupor. "You'll be alright lad. Arya is strong."

Eragon and Saphira stiffened," Arya's dead." Even though Nasuada, King Orik and Orrin knew this; the crowd around them gasped, they weren't informed of Arya's state.

Nasuada still had not accepted the inevitable, of course. "No, Eragon. We do not know that."

Eragon twisted out of Orik's grip and was surprised when Orik did not let go, but kept Eragon in place. "Rider, we all know the bond you shared. One would be blind to not see it. And with mine own eyes I have seen what this has done to you." His low voice went to a rough whisper, "Do not mistake yourself as the only one suffering from this loss. The Elves have yet to be informed."

Eragon nodded dumbly, someone was calling him out.

"As thine King, I command you to go to the Elves and report everything. We will wait for your return and then take Dras-Leona."

Eragon need not be asked twice. As soon as Eragon was strapped in the traveling saddle Saphira was surging into the air. Leaving a stunned and confused Nasuada and Orrin behind.

The way to Gil'ead was quiet; no words were exchanged between Eragon and Saphira.

They flew through the night.

The Next Day…

When the pair arrived at Gil'ead, tired and exhausted. They could not help but gasp at the transformation the Elves had given the fallen city. Once gray and barren was now clean and alive. Even from a bird's eye view, green was the main color. Moss, bright colored flowers, and trees were obviously sung into a fast growing oasis. _Fricai onr eka eddyr,_ Eragon's conscience whispered to all the alerted Elves below him.

_Welcome, Shur'tugal and Saphira Bjartskular. _A melodic voice greeted Eragon and Saphira. Eragon finally recognized it as Islanzadi, much to his awe and surprise. Eragon could barely keep in the saddle he was so exhausted. Saphira stumbled when she landed, causing Eragon to lurch forward uncharacteristically. He groaned and slid off the fatigued Dragon's back and tried to bow to the audience of Elves, his hand twisting over his heart.

He knew he had to say something. For some reason he could not remember the proper greeting. Then he remembered the time Arya took him away from the camp and taught him the proper way to greet an Elf. Sorrow overwhelmed him.

Saphira ended up saying the greeting herself.

"What ails you, Eragon, Saphira?" Islanzadi was concerned. "Surely you do not wear yourselves thin for no reason?"

Eragon caught a sob before it made a sound. He would not break in front of higher beings. Laying a hand on Saphira's strong shoulder, she lent him strength. "Arya was killed by Galbatorix." Eragon turned his face into Saphira as gasps and cries filled the oasis.

Islanzadi only stood there, struck speechless. "How." She finally whispered. "How could this have happened? Who allowed her into his grasp?"

Tears ran down the Queen's face as Eragon retold the tale, the meeting, the Dream Stare and his subconscious realization.

All was silent. Islanzadi kept her head bowed, unable to face her daughter's partner, mate. "She has passed with honor." She took a breath to steady her melodic voice. "Eragon, you are forgiven, it was not you fault. Nasuada was unaware of her mistake."

After a few more minutes of torturous silence, Islanzadi gathered herself. "Let this tragic event only propel us forward, drive us. This is only one more reason that Galbatorix must fall; a Revolution is the only answer. Let us not show him mercy, as he showed my daughter none. Let him see the true wrath of the Elves." With that Islanzadi dismissed herself, slipping into her grand, eloquent tent. The Elves riled in agony and sorrow. Mournful songs, not meant to be heard with human ears, shook Gil'ead. A plate of rice cakes and Faelnirv was placed in front of Saphira and Eragon by sobbing servants.

_How long must we sing this song_? The Elves sang of pain, war, and death.

The mournful songs brought tears of an unknown emotion into Eragon's eyes, his body collapsing from the inside out. _Wipe the tears from your eyes._ The wind carried the most peaceful sound, refreshing Eragon. He inhaled the unnatural wind and dried his tears.

There was still work to do.

Back at the Varden…

Eragon collapsed on his cot. Beyond exhausted. Saphira settled into a heavy slumber out side of his tent, closest to him. He shut his eyes and dreamed of nothing. They had flown two days straight, not even staying the night at the Elves. In three days, the Elves and the Varden would meet and Uru Baen.

To destroy the Empire once and for all.


	17. Nothing

She ran until it was all she could concentrate on; inhuman speed taking over her body as she flew across the forest.

_Still, _there was nothing.

No life. No sun, no stars, no wind.

Nothing.

Even the moss-covered trees were lifeless, as they seemed to surround the fleeing Elf as she traveled upon foggy ground.

No matter where Arya went in this desolate transition world, she was alone. The feeling of nothingness was overwhelming. Eyes darting, heart pounding, arms pumping, she could not get away from this nothingness.

Arya ran for hours, her mind reeling over her capture, torture, and death in Uru Baen. What of Eragon? Saphira? Islanzadi? What has become of her loved ones? The Varden?

What has become of her?

_I have to get out of here,_ Arya decided. Taking action she leapt on to a tall Sycamore to scout the surroundings. Gasping, she fell back from the tree; it was ice cold. Arya turned towards a fern, its fanned leaves broke in half at her touch. Arya looked back at the Sycamore and touched its branches again; dead and cold. Desperate, she turned back to the fern and did a double take; the leaf was whole again.

Breathing heavily she backed away from the fern like it was a rabid wolf, running into the Sycamore, it crackled at her warm touch. The moccasins on her feet were worn thin from the relentless hours of running, but that did not stop her from fleeing like the super shade himself was after her again.

Hours later…

Stumbling, Arya came to a stop, falling on her trembling knees while wrapping her arms around her head; as if to shelter herself from this horrifying realm. "I'm not supposed to be here!" Arya cried out loud, her voice cracked the silence like a whip, startling herself.

After a while, sleep seemed like the only thing worth doing. But even with her arms wrapped around herself, it was like trying to sleep without a blanket or pillow. Her clothes did nothing against the chill of fear and confusion.

_Eragon, help me_. Arya silently prayed for an answer… any kind of answer.

A/N: Something tells me that it settles you to know that Arya is not 'lost' to us. After the loads of PM's and reviews regarding what a cruel person I am, I hoped this helped :P A long chapter next. This was just a little tidbit. Misty


	18. AN Apologies

**A/N** Hey you guys. I'm sorry to disappoint, you all probably thought this was another chapter. Anyways, here is the thing. I was diagnosed with this disease, life threatening, and it sucks. It's called "Cacographitis" A.K.A…. Writers Block. I know, I know, lame excuse for dropping off the face of the planet.

I had this plan, this masterminded plot for the next chapter. So of course I got to writing it. Then I re-read the five pages that I wrote… highlighted it, and then deleted it. Back to square one. Half way through the next attempt, and this time its rather good. So, I apologize for the unnecessary cliffhanger. '_Sorry'_ doesn't really do much, I understand. Stick with me guys.


	19. Dreams

It was consumed in a dark, toxic smoke…

Ash, charcoal and dirt all mixed with the blood and flesh of its people.

That was the squandered remains of Dras-Leona, second most powerful city to Uru Baen itself.

The smoke swirled around his torso and respired through his nostrils. The smell of revenge was just as sweet as it sounded. Allowing his head to roll back, Eragon basked in the toxic atmosphere of his hard labor.

_You enjoy this too much_, Saphira commented bluntly.

_Don't pretend like you don't know why, _Eragon straightened.

_I'm sure she wouldn't want us to become savage. War mongering. _She backed away, sensing the hole she just dug for herself.

_What if I'm wrong?_ Eragon rushed. _What if she's alive?_

_Eragon you and I both know---_

_Still, what if, _He refused to be swayed. Saphira bowed her head, _you are in war for the wrong reason. _

He caught himself; who was he fooling? He _was _acting savage._ You're right- I'm being stupid. Sorry._

_We all mend in different ways. There is no need for sorry_. Saphira's hot breath ruffled his matted hair affectionately. _Let us do what we need to do with out this barbarous intent to take out mankind. _

* * *

_At the Varden's Temporary Camp: Aftermath._

It worried him, sometimes. How people scurried out of his way like he was a rabid beast. Maybe it was because he had a dragon the size of a house following him… but then again, maybe it was because he had become a bloodthirsty war-lover. Eragon was hopeful the latter was just his imagination.

Saphira and him both agreed it was all Nasuada and Orin and Orik could do to hold on for dear life as Eragon carved a path of destruction towards Uru Baen. The Varden was exhausted. Moving an army that size was horribly draining for every one involved. They all needed rest.

"That's a wonderful idea." Nasuada sat down heavily on her makeshift throne, head in hands. "Dismissed."

Eragon bowed out of the tent, ignoring the stab at his pride. Dismissed? His step quickened in agitation, stirring up dust, making his way towards Roran's tent.

_Oh, stop. Your mind is not right._ Saphira hovered over his head before landing in front of him. _You should be sleeping. _

_I'm seeing to Roran first._

_As you wish, _Saphira took off in a huff_. _

Eragon stepped in front of a familiar tan tent, "Roran?"

A grumble reply was all to be heard.

"All right there, mate?" Eragon grinned, with the strength he had left.

"Suit yourself," Roran stepped out side the tent. Eragon took a deep breath of relief at the site of his brother unharmed, only to be overwhelmed by a stench worthy of rotted meat.

"Blimey, Roran, what in the blazes is that awful—"

"How tired are you, brother? Did you not see what they set my tent by?" Roran gave Eragon a look that questioned his sanity.

When Eragon didn't answer, Roran took glee in explaining the obvious, " Right on the other side of these tents, is a big pile of rotting enemy carcasses." Like it excited him whatsoever.

Eragon just shook his head, hardly able to comprehend Roran's words, let alone their meaning. As if in answer, Roran swayed on his feet. They both stared at each other, eyes glazed over.

_Just look at the both of you_, Saphira tutted to both of the boys, _practically dead on your feet._ _Off to bed; both of you._

The brothers exchanged gloomy looks. There was still much to be done. _Yes, mom._ Eragon retorted anyways, climbing on her back. He knew a lost battle when he saw one. Soon after, when his head was resting on his pillow, and Saphira kept guard outside the tent. Eragon realized just how much he owed that sarcastic Dragon of his.

* * *

_In Eragon's Dream That Night, Arya Appeared..._

"Arya," Eragon whispered, holding the majestic Elf tight. "I thought I lost you."

They seemed to be surrounded by white… air? Was this a different kind of Dream Stare?

"I've decided that I must not be dead." Arya announced.

"No, you must not be… or else that means I am." Eragon thought of Saphira guarding the front of his tent, it was impossible for him to die with her even remotely near.

"No," Arya placed a hand on his cheek, "You're not."

"What happened to you?" He placed his hand over hers. "Start from the beginning." Anything to gain more time.

" I was in the forest near the Toark River, almost out, when something started chasing me." Her voice trembled slightly; no human could have heard it.

"Something...?"

" I'll skip the details--In the end it caught me. When I woke, I was in a cell, most likely Uru Baen. And then my attacker walked in…" Her voice caught audibly this time.

"Who was it?" Encouraged Eragon.

"Faolin." Arya's grip on his hand tightened measurably. She turned and started pacing, agitated.

"They turned him into some kind of super Shade." Her fingers snapped together.

"Super Shade? What is that? How did he bring Faolin back from the dead?" It was impossible. She had lost her mind? He didn't want to spend these precious moments together discussing her hallucinations.

"It makes sense. Only a very powerful Elf could have made those wards around Helgrind." Persuaded Arya at a rather alarming speed.

"Arya, Faolin's dea—" He was cut short as Arya shook his shoulders in outright impatience.

"Listen! Time is short. Galbatorix summoned something far more powerful than spirits and demons this round. Something he didn't use against us last time."

"Eldunari…" Eragon felt like smacking himself. Of course Galbatorix wouldn't have wanted to kill Faolin. Its not everyday a mad scientist like himself had an Elf to experiment on. Galbatorix made Faolin his test subject, using the Eldunari, and made an insanely powerful Shade. "Oh, no…" The thought was horrible.

"You see?" Arya nodded eagerly. "He is fast and his endurance is outstanding, like a Kull. But he's completely brain washed and has no sense of self consciousness unlike Durza—"

"Which makes him even more than a threat—" Eragon finished warily. He drug a hand over his face in weariness," Galbatorix controls the spirits—"

"And the Eldunari." Arya stepped forward, "You and Saphira can not do this alone, Eragon."

He kept the hand on his forehead, "Obviously, Arya. But I don't exactly have a Faolin of my own right now do I?"

Hurt played across her features," What am I? A magician?"

Eragon sighed, pulling her into a hug, "You are way more than a magician, to any of us. I don't know how I'm supposed to do this with out you. But you're…" He trailed off.

"Dead?" Her eyebrows rose.

"I don't want to believe it."

"Really? Eragon, would I not be in Heaven if I was dead?" His eyes widened at the smile playing on her face. "For days I have been in this realm and I have finally figured out where I am."

"I heard the words, Arya. He said 'Deyja' plain as day." He wanted to believe this story she had, but he knew what he heard.

"Eragon," her voice became as hard as her glistening green eyes, "you have indeed much to learn about my kind if you think a simple word such as 'Deyja' could possibly kill an elf; and not to be immodest, but a rather strong Elf, such as myself."

"Wait so—"

"I'm not really dead, I'm in a transition place. Some kind of realm." She looked at him, mirroring his expression, "I've only heard of it. No Elf in the past two centuries has experienced it."

"So it's possible to… revive you? How?" Eragon took her hands eagerly; there was hope for them after all.

"Have you ever heard of the Rock of Kuthian and the Vault of Souls?"

Stunned silence wafted over them...

_To be continued…_


	20. Obstacles

"_This is insane." _

"_It wasn't just a dream—"_

"_Obviously… but its insane all the sa—"_

"_Stop! We need to figure out how to get to the Rock of—" _

" _And the Vault of S—"_

"_Immediately." _The Rider and Dragon both agreed at last. Saphira and Eragon just experienced the impossible. They both agreed, Arya was still alive, stuck in some ancient form of transition realm. Between life and death, unable to come to the surface of either. Saphira, able to be in Eragon's mind, witnessed the strange dream just as he, himself, had. Also, as Eragon, she trusted the truth of Arya's words. They needed to find the Rock of Kuthian and the Vault of Souls, and fast.

_There is also one more problem_, Eragon realized.

_Which would be?_

"I don't know my true name Saphira!" He exclaimed, standing up, pacing. _That does pose a problem_, agreed Saphira mutely, shifting her head on the floor, sighing in mere frustration. Obstacles would never stop blocking their way towards a righteous victory. _I remember the werecat telling me I need to speak my true name to open the Vault of Souls…but how to find out my true name_?

_Ask someone?_ Saphira suggested.

_You remember just as well as I. Oromis said that only rare few know how to find a persons true name, but even fewer would be willing to share it. _Eragon smacked his forehead, was every force in this universe against them?

_Ask someone_. Saphira snorted again. Eragon only glared at her, unwilling to repeat himself once again.

They both sensed Roran before they heard him. "Whats all the yelling about?" He entered the tent, skirting around Saphira respectfully. When he eyed the resentful pair he let out a barking laugh, muck like Eragon's, "I swear, you both argue like a married couple."

_You would know,_ Saphira snorted. Eragon winced internally; Roran was really sensitive on the marriage subject ever since Katrina left. But Roran just grinned, "Aye, Dragon, I do." He shuffled his feet, "Whats this all about?"

Eragon and Saphira exchanged a glance. "Just more war plans."

Roran was suspicious," Really? Don't you two usually do that inside your heads?"

"This was more… urgent, brother."

"Don't let me interrupt then." Roran got up to walk out of the tent. Clearly feeling mistrusted.

Eragon looked at Saphira, who nodded. He was Eragon's brother, trustworthy. "Roran, Arya's alive."

The look on Roran's face was exactly what Saphira and him both were expecting. "She came to me in a dream last night. Arya was not killed, but merely put in a transition world."

"Have you been sniffing Angela's potions?" Roran had the nerve to ask.

"Listen to me!" Eragon exclaimed, now angry. What a fool he had been thinking Roran could understand something like this.

_He speaks the truth, Roran. Do not be foolish_. Saphira snapped. Roran immediately fell silent. Eragon continued, trying to explain to Roran in the best way possible that there was still hope for Arya, and the future Varden with out sounding crazy.

"Its nearly impossible to do this without her help." Roran agreed.

"We are far too inexperienced to take out the empire with only our wisdom and strength alone." Eragon added.

Roran gave him a look," Need I remind you, brother; it was I who took out those twins. Who were in fact magical."

"Like I need reminding." (Every time Eragon suggested their weaknesses, Roran would relentlessly bud-in about how he saved them all by killing the twins.)

_That goes with out saying, Roran_. Saphira obviously had her fill of his antics as well. _Eragon and I have no choice but go after this legend of the Rock and Vault._

"It's a wild goose chase! Surely you will not abandon the Varden." Exclaimed Roran, standing to his feet.

_I'm sure you'll survive; you did, after all kill the twins with nothing but your hammer._ Saphira's tone was mocking.

"This _is_ for the good of the Varden." Eragon nudged Saphira with his elbow and her expression became subdued, her fun over. "What time is it?" He asked.

_There is no sun in the touching the sky yet_, Saphira opened one heavy eye lid, _your favorite time of day. _

_Aye, it is. _

Roran left quietly and Saphira and Eragon made their way towards a lonely hillside. Nothing but darkness and the twinkling of stars surrounded them. Crickets chirped and fires crackled, after-battle peace seemed to settle over the camp at last.

Sitting down, leaning on Saphira, Eragon gazed at Aiedail, the morning star. It reminded him of Arya, painfully so. It is bright, and is the only star that truly catches his eye and makes him appreciate its presence, though it is amongst thousands of others. It guided him and Brom on their journey to the Varden. And Arya guided him now, even though she was technically not on earth. When he looked at the Aiedail, it used to bring a sense of loss and pain, remembering Arya's death and permanent absence from his life. Though now… now it brought on a whole new meaning. He felt a purpose, a purpose to fight, and now to bring Arya back.

And he was going to fulfill that purpose no matter what obstacle got in his way. Saphira hummed in agreement by his side.

They were in this together.

Sorry, very short chapter. Just a filler though, nothing major. Just some fluff before I get into the more serious stuff. If there are mistakes, I apologize. But I wrote this in minutes.


	21. Heres the Deal

Heres the deal.

I've lost the drive and the time to write this story. Flat out, no excuses, that's what it comes down to.

I have some awesome ideas for it though, but I just cannot get past the next chapter.

Here is my offer: If somebody, who really likes this story, writes the next chapter, depending on how well they handle it will either be given this story (I'd cry, but its better off that way) or just given the credit and I will dedicate myself to writing the rest of this story.

How does that sound?

Misty


	22. Chapter 22

**"_A true name can be of great importance magically, but it is not a spell in and of itself, and it is exempt from my promise. If your desire is to better understand yourself, Eragon, then seek to discover your true name on your own. If I gave you it, you might profit thereof, but you would do so without the wisdom you would otherwise acquire during the journey to find your true name. A person must learn enlightenment, Eragon. It is not handed down to you by others, regardless of how revered they be."_** Oromis had once said, only days before he died by the hand of Eragon's half-brother, Murtagh.

A whole lot of good Oromis' decision did him now. Eragon needed his real name badly; the whole future of Alagaesia depended on it… the world depended on a heart-broken farm boy from Carvahall. The irony was almost too much for him at times.

While the unforgiving desert heat intensified in the dark canvas tent, so did the intense argument within it.

Desperation versus pride;

Inevitable versus logical;

Nasuada stood toe-to-toe with Eragon, jaws and fists clenched. Nasuada was tall for a woman which made her eyes level with Eragon's. Neither leader was going to back down and they had been at it for hours so it seemed to the witnesses.

"I said no! That's an order!" Nasuada began, yet again. Eragon's expression remained the same; defiant, cold. "You dare defy your liege lord?" Nostrils flared, she tried to restrain Eragon from leaving on some hell-driven goose chase. He was going to him and Saphira killed, ruining any chance

"Yes, I dare." He tested, knowing very well there was nothing she could do about it. She had been right those many months ago when she told Eragon that he finally learned how to play the Varden's game. Now, not only had he mastered the game… he owned it.

"I could have you killed for this." She didn't really mean it, but the threat still hung in the air.

"I want to see you try." He turned to her guards, "Which of you, fellow soldiers, will wield the sword that ends your chance any slim chance we now have at victory?" His violent gaze bored itself into each one of her guards. Shaking their heads they all stepped back. Nodding in satisfaction he turned (at quite an unnatural speed, noted Nasuada) back to her. "And would you, Nasuada, kill your only chance at victory?"

"I'll have you whipped then." _At the very least_, Nasuada promised herself.

"I see." Eragon rolled his eyes disrespectfully, "Just like you did to my poor brother who won you that battle. He was whipped fifty times, I hear, for outsmarting your commander, who was too cowardly to take correct action. Indeed, Nasuada, it seems you do, infact, enjoy wrongly accusing those who only do good for you." He knew it was low, but patience seemed like a mythical luxury at the time.

Quivering, Nasuada took a step towards him. How dare he call her out in front of an audience? "You dare----"

_Enough, little one_. Saphira shifted anxiously. This argument went from a battle of good cause to a political revolution revolving around pride and foolishness.

"I do dare, because this will bring back our only chance at winning this gods-forsaken war. Arya was the reason we got past Helgrind and Feinster and the only way we got to the Varden." The emotional Rider unleashed. "Don't you understand? Arya's the entire reason Saphira and I stand before you today as allies!"

The thought of the powerful pair as enemies was hardly comprehendible for the silent bystanders.

"It would be foolish. We need you here." Finally admitted Nasuada, pride fully aside. "It helps me sleep at night knowing that the Varden are protected by you and Saphira. What are we to do if we were attacked while you two are away on this… on this… goose chase?" She exclaimed, gesturing to Saphira. Nasuada saw Eragon's expression and submitted defeat.

Eragon may have walked away from that battle triumphant but he had an array of little battles growing on him that he was half-unaware of; emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally… it was all going to consume him in the end. Yet the Rider continued with his head held high.

_If I'm to fall in the end_, he contemplated grimly on his way to his tent, _I'm falling the hardest I possibly can. _

_That's the spirit!_ Cheered Saphira who soared above; relieved the foolish argument was finally over.

* * *

Later that day the evening rays flamed Saphira's blue scales making scintillated designs on the river below. It was the most peaceful they both had felt in weeks. Where are we going? Saphira finally asked.

_I was wondering when you'd finally ask. To the Elves, I hope to find someone there to assist me._

_All the way to the Elves_? Saphira sighed.

Eragon could almost hear her roll her eyes._ Well do you have a better plan, O Bright Scales?_

Saphira hummed for a while, _you never asked me if I knew your Name. Well... not directly anyways._

Shock. Complete shock took over his brain. She knew? She watched him suffer and worry and said nothing... Unreal. He finally collected himself enough to breathe again and yelled in frustration. She had known this entire time!

Betrayal and anger stung Eragon to the core. _Why? Why have you done this to me?_

_Oromis and Brom made me swear not to tell…_ She snapped defensively, feeling his vibe.

"I'd never keep something as important as this from you! I feel…so..." Yelled Eragon aloud, not finding the right word.

_Betrayed?_ Saphira guiltily offered.

"How could you do this to me? Just how long were you planning on taking me across the world to find out what _you_ already happen know?" He was still yelling.

_It is not as easy keeping something like that from you as you might think_! Fire spat out her snapping mouth in intervals. _I've been tortured for weeks by this! But Oromis told me, 'never tell Eragon this information unless the situation absolutely demands so'. _

_And does this situation now prove dire enough for you? _

_Eragon… this True Name thing…_ The defensivness left her tone, now she was hesitant.

_Don't tell me its not that important_! He exclaimed.

_Eragon, please, you don't understand. You're going to be so disappointed…_

He smacked the leather saddle in frustration, _out with it._

_It's Eragon. Your given name._

He felt her cringe underneath him. Waiting for the outburst that was most sure to follow.

_Eragon_? Eragon laughed. _Alright, stop jesting, now tell me the truth._

Saphira regarded him with an expression he couldn't quite name. Then it suddenly hit him like a Kull... his true name was the one that his own mother had given him.

_I thought it would be something different, something meaningful_. Eragon felt the anger drain out of him, he knew his own name the entire time. _What it means, dear Rider, is that your Name and your heritage is ancient. Your name _is_ power. It's meaning is power and hope. The Eragon of Old, the First Rider never had a true name either. You should feel proud to bear the name, it holds more power thanany other Name. _Saphira finally explained.

Realizing something, Eragon clenched his fists_. This means that everyone in this world knows my Name… even Galbatorix! _

Panic started seeping in through his confidence's cracks. _Oromis and I talked of this; we decided that since Galbatorix is naïve enough to not research your heritage he would undoubtedly pursue your "True Name" blindly. Giving us the advantage." _She finished proudly.

_Saphira_, Eragon closed his eyes against the stinging head wind, _Galbatorix is rabid and mean, not stupid._

_Oh yes_, Saphira rolled hard to the right, trying to unseat him_; I forgot, Oromis and I are the stupid ones! _Black steam blew from her nostrils and whipped back into Eragon's face.

_I never said that! _He wiped the scorched snot off his face with the hem of his light tan tunic.

_We are going to pretend that this Name search never happened, and that you are just as ignorant as you used to be--- _

_And keep them off our backs. _Eragon finished with enthusiasm. Saphira showed her teeth, her way of grinning_; You are still the same farm boy I was hatched to years ago. _

He let out a loud scoff, "Indeed."

_Well_, She teased, _maybe just a smidge more attractive. _

"Is that all? Just a smidge?" Exclaimed Eragon aloud, tapping her scales on her shoulder with his boot.

She snaked her neck back to snap at his boot, _Enough! You've come too far to turn cockynow._

After an hour of happy, content silence, Eragon finally concluded that he liked the fact that his name was his own. He didn't have any standards to live up to than what he already had. It made things less complicated, and in a way made sense. Eragon was a name of power and hope according to the Ancient Language, the original Eragon was proof enough.

By the change of wind currents he could tell they weren't headed North- East. So he checked their direction, "Still to the Elves?"

_No, were picking someone up first. I think we've been without a certain someone for too long._ Saphira sent him an image of Arya, kept locked in a cell, technically lifeless; unfortunately locked inside her own unconsciousness, as Eragon discovered.

Eragon's heart skipped a beat. _I love you, Saphira!_

_Word around the Empire says that she's been moved to Gil'ead because of her 'state of uselessness'_. Saphira explained, _Mauve told me_.

That's one way to define being encaged in your own mind because he didn't put enough power in the spell to kill you completely.

_Yes, he definitely keeps underestimating the power of Elves._ Her brilliant scales reflected light into his eyes when she allowed the wind to tilt her sideways.

_He won't anymore after this_. Eragon promised himself, Saphira, and Arya. Now that Arya was moved to Gil'ead it made rescuing her exponentially less problematic. Both Eragon and Saphira knew the city like the back of their hands… well, claws, and they've done it before. Eragon knew Saphira couldn't risk exposing herself so it was going to be up to him. And he was more than ready to take on the entire country at this time. Sensing his exaltations Saphira roared her famous battle cry; he joined in as they made their way towards Gil'ead, to rescue Arya one last time.

The pair flew through the night and into the next morning, Eragon sleeping in the saddle.

Thankfully, she landed a few miles away from the city, giving herself plenty of breathing room. _We should wait until dark; there are soldiers everywhere_. She scrunched her nose, _I hate soldiers. In fact I don't even enjoy eating them anymore… just ripping them into shreds._

Black smoke sizzled out of her deep nostrils as her claws kneaded the ground. _There's that savage beast I know so well_. Eragon laid a comforting hand on her. _Soon we will both get our chance to rip them all to pieces. _He gave himself a mental pat on the back, he sure knew the right thing to say to make a dragon feel better nowadays.

Later that night after the pair rested and discussed the jailbreak Eragon set off at a fast sprint towards the dark city, keeping to the looming shadows that the fading sunset generously provided. _God, let this work_, He prayed as he paid a straggling old man for his silence and his old cloak and walking stick. Shrugging into the smelly piece of cloth he hunched over and coughed, limping into the guards sight, leaning heavily on his stick.

"Didn' ya jus leave, old man?" One of the soldiers drawled carelessly, opening the gate.

"Jus' a gettn' home afore the wife misses me." Eragon wheezed, trying in vain to be like Brom. The soldiers gave him pitying looks, "Jus'n be on yer way. There's trouble a brewin' round here. The King's a gett'n his hoes 'n all sortsa knots afer the special pris'ner got here." The others elbowed the loose-tongued guard hard. Eragon smiled behind the fake beard, how he loved watching Galbatorix's guards, people who protect his prized cities and people make fools out of themselves.

Eragon pretended that he didn't hear and limped his way through the throngs of well-armed gaurds and people, searching mentally for magicians and any others who would detect him. A magician stood on top of the wall, over looking the crowd with hard, cold eyes. Eragon over powered him instantly, controlling him. He made the magician go inside the guard tower.

It was completely dark by the time Eragon got near the hellish 'barracks', which was actually used for more dark and cruel things.

Tonight was the kind of night when Garrow would have lit a candle and muttered, "Its blacker than a stack of black cats out there. The devils prowlin' around, no doubt." Shaking the memory from his head, Eragon shrugged the cloak off and sprinted past the sleeping guards, to quick to be clearly visible. With his enhanced sight, he could see ten times better than a human could. Thankful that Saphira had him change into a black shirt helped him camouflage perfectly into the backdrop of the night, as he scaled the wall.

_Easy,_ Saphira coached as he eased through the window. The magicians he took down quickly and silently, they didn't make a sound as their bodies fell on top of each other in a dark corridor.

"Now," He turned to the long row of cells, "Where are you?" His mental sensors reached out and he immediately felt an overwhelming sense of dread, thanks to the death row prisoners. Shaking it off he reached farther, there!

A small beam of life led him to a lonely cell in the very end of the corridor. His footsteps weren't even audible as he sprinted towards her cell, guards were on their way._ Jarda_, he commanded sternly, the door flew open only to be caught by his waiting hand. But his eyes weren't on the door, they were trained to the bleeding and broken Elf strung up in the darkest corner of the dungeon. "Arya," He sighed cutting her loose and catching her limp body in his strong arms. "How many times do I have to save you?" He stopped talking to himself and hoisted her over his shoulders, sprinting out the back. It was like a maze, dead end after dead end. Time was running out.

How could he think he could do this alone?

_Out the window,_ Saphira ordered from afar_, you're out of time_. Don't I know it, Eragon broke a window and leapt out.

_I'm four stories high_, he just realized. With a strong spell he lowered himself gently to the ground. _Little help?_ He asked as he raced along the back sides of the street.

_My pleasure,_ she flew straight into the gate, already prepared. The hinges loosened and gaurds yelled as their arrows bounced off of the wards Eragon placed on Saphira.

_Hurry! Again!_ Eragon sprinted faster, the weight of the spell already draining him. Saphira grunted as she rammed all of her impressive weight against the gate. The wrought iron beast of a city gate shoved apart, allowing Eragon to reach Saphira who snatched him up as catapults started firing at them. Gaurds were almost upon them as Saphira took flight, hastily.

_This was too easy_, he grimaced, settling Arya in front of him.

_Don't I know it. Were obviously in for a nasty surprise in the too-near future._

"Now what?" Eragon asked aloud, looking behind his shoulder at the chaotic mess of a city. They had just exposed themselves to thousands of people, all followers of Galbatorix. If he and Saphira were lucky Galbatorix was not concerned with the escape of his most prized prisoner. One he believed to be nearly dead, useless.

_To the Elves I suppose. Arya needs to be with her own kind so she can be healed her properly. _

_Saphira maybe we should asses the damage, shes barely even breathing. Its as if shes in a coma again. _From past experience and his dream, Eragon knew that this wasnt an Elf coma, it was a stage in between life and death. Arya refused to let go of this world, she refused to give up and take the easy way out. Eragon was more than willing to meet her half way and find any cure necessary to ease her passing back into life.

_I will get her to them as fast as my wings can carry us._ Saphira promised, pushing faster.

_Friend_, he reached out to Arya's steeled mind. He let the thought and feeling of the word brush against her mind softly, lightly touching. Saphira flew through the night, joining Eragon as he kept trying to bring Arya back to this side of the world.

To be continued...

….


	23. The Final Arrangements

It was three long, intense, drawn out days since the rescue. Eragon and Saphira had flown for two days straight to Islanzadi's camp. Arya had been saved, barely. Eragon spent most of his time pacing back and forth in front of the healers tent where Arya was recovering. The only time his footsteps strayed from the tan tents parameter was when Islanzadi requested his presence in her council gatherings or when Saphira was luck enough to distract him. Eragon had been in contact with Roran, yet that did not disturb his single-minded thoughts for long.

On the third day of painful pacing, Saphira demanded Eragon's company on her hunting trip. _I have not eaten since you stopped eating, and I'm ravenous. _Saphira was already shifting on her haunches to take off.

Eragon felt her deep hunger, which brought his attention to his own aching stomach. It only took a matter of seconds for the two hungry warriors to launch into the sky.

The juice of the Coney meat dripped down Eragon's chin. He was being a slob. Even growing up with two other countrymen he knew better than to eat like a starving wild pig. "I don't know what's gotten into me. I can hardly remember the past few days." Eragon heard Saphira tear into the black bear she caught behind him. _Your__ desperate behavior is natural. Some one you love deeply was almost killed… __again. It's natural to worry. _

Now that his ravenous hunger had subsided, Eragon began feeling self-conscious of the Coney bones littered on his lap and the grease smeared on his face. He looked at Saphira just in time to get spattered by blood as she ripped the bear's ribs in half. Her entire snout was drenched in blood and intestines. His self-consciousness completely evaporated. If he was a pig, than she was one of those troll hogs they found in the Beor Mountains.

_If I had somebody like you have Arya, I supposed I would be distraught as well._ She paused to rip off the other half of the bear's ribcage. As she crunched she gave him the truth Eragon needed to hear._ Though I have to admit we have a war on our doorstep. We don't have time to be pacing in front of tents. As much as you care about her, Eragon, you and I both know she will have your head for wasting all your time pacing outside of her tent._

When they cleaned themselves off and returned to camp, Arya's Healer was waiting outside the tent, "She's awake. It's only appropriate for you to know first." The weathered She-Elf opened the tent flap, allowing Eragon inside. Arya met his relieved gaze with her own solid look that he knew too well; meaning she was fine. Eragon switched tactics and glared, "You are supposed to be dead, again."

"You saved me, again." Arya brushed against his mental barrier and he relished in her soothing presence. He had been missing it for quite sometime. _I am in your debt once again, Rider. _He sat on the edge of the bed and his hesitant hand brushed a stray hair behind her ear. A daring move, yet he was beginning to become a daring man, especially when it came to Arya. _I wonder how you are going to repay me this time? _He smiled trying to lighten the dank atmosphere.

"I will aid you to the best of my abilities to win this war. Even if it claims my life." Arya sat up, "Upon my word, Eragon, you will win this war." The fervor in her exotic voice relieved Eragon of any doubt.

"Arya I saw you. I saw you in a dream. We were both trapped in this white land that had nothing in it."

Arya's eyes widened, "I was there, Eragon. Spiritually, I mean, not physically. I thought you were just an illusion."

Eragon was beginning to believe that this was a real place. A realm of some sort. Arya shared his thoughts.

After a while of thoughtless pondering on the mystery realm Eragon continued the lost conversation. "That's when I knew you were alive somewhere, somehow. Only a short time before that, I had announced your death. Saphira and I went to your mother and told her in person. I left them in mourning, Arya. They must all think I am a liar."

Arya tried to comfort him, "My mother said you brought me back. You saved me, Eragon. My people have nothing but the deepest respect for you."

One day later, Arya was back on her feet, gliding around camp as if nothing had ever happened. She accepted the smiles and exclamations graciously. Eragon merely brushed off the thanks as courteously as he could, emerging himself deeply into the construction of the battle that was almost upon them. It was close, so close he could practically smell the blood of Galbatorix's army as it was crushed under the sheer power of his army's forces. Saphira shared her fantasies with him as they slept; complete oblivion of the enemy. Destroying an evil that had taken so much away. She tasted man-flesh already. Eragon could almost feel the weight of flesh on his blade. He slept well that night.

The heat of the day beat upon the tent like fire. Every being in the large gathering tent was irritable and easily aggravated.

"No, like this," Eragon picked up the battle piece from it's place on the map then froze midair, "If I may?"

Queen Islanzadi merely waved off his ignorance and motioned for him to proceed.

Manners out the tent window, Eragon started slamming battle pieces around, "The Dwarves should come from the south at this angle, as you see it nearly encloses our offensive sphere, like so." With authority, Eragon continued to maneuver battle pieces strategically, aware of Arya's keen gaze along with so many critical looks that seemed to bore through him. Occasionally, Saphira would poke her head in to give her judgment, which the Elves immediately accepted with passion, as usual, yet criticized Eragon's every move. It drove him crazy. Hours later, after many changes, critiques and intellectual debates, the final pieces were arranged and the war plans were swept off by messengers riding as if Galbatorix himself were after them.

Arya, Eragon, and Saphira walked away from the tent with a sense of excitement and dread of what was to come. Without a word, Saphira prepared to take off.

In the deep breath that always came before a war, Arya rode behind Eragon as Saphira ripped through the air. The wind stripped them of any pent up frustration after the all-day debate. _You are content with the arrangements?_ Arya again came into Eragon's whirling mind.

He couldn't help but warn her. _My mind is a dangerous place to be in at the moment, Princess._

He felt her shrug, _so it did not go in your favor_. _Yet_ _there is a vast difference between plans and action, dear one. In the midst of battle you may find that you will get your way after all._

He responded by placing his rough hand over hers on his waist, _we are a team, Arya, I will do what we decide is best as a team. I've learned my lesson. _

They didn't land for quite a while. Saphira, by the time they landed, was feeling ignored and used, in good nature of course. Arya and Eragon playfully teased her until she was back to her usual self. _Good riddance_, Saphira sniffed, taking off once again.

_Love you,_ Eragon vexed.

As expected, the carefree games could not last for long. An Elven messenger stormed into the camp, almost as sweaty as his horse, blood trickling down his face. Soon after he was cared for, Eragon found himself in yet another council meeting. Arya, who sat by his side, shared his bitter feelings.

Islanzadi spoke above the excited murmur, "The Varden has responded and agreed to our arrangements, their spies report no movement from Galbatorix's troops, and his position is in our favor. The fact that Galbatorix already expects us to come to him should concern me. Yet our coordination with the others in our forces puts me at ease. What say you? Are you content with our arrangements; fighting alongside Dwarves and Humans?"

It was not a question; it was a declaration that the Queen just so happened to put sensitively. She was not disappointed with the amount of passion and feverish determination emanating from her people

They would win. If there was a doubt otherwise, Eragon did not see it in Islanzadi's proud features as the entire congregation spoke the Oath of Bonding together. Saphira's teeth gleamed in the firelight. Eragon could not help but imagined them bloodstained and fearsome. A chill went through both him and Arya whose minds were melded together. Pre-War adrenaline was already pumping back into Eragon's veins. It was not the cold, careless feeling that he had when Arya was believed to be dead that led him through many battles. Now Eragon was fighting for something other than the good of Alagaesia. He was fighting for their future, whatever that would hold with Arya and Saphira.

At the dawn of the fifth day the Elves, Dragon and horses stampeded out of their sanctuary; the last sanctuary in Alagaesia from this day forward.

The battle was finally before them.

**AN: This is a set up chapter. I just wanted to give you guys something to chew on until I get the last H.U.G.E. Chapter finished. When will that be? 2 weeks tops. It's a very long a complicated chapter. Oh man do I have some great stuff planned for the next chapter!! Thank you for all who have waited so patiently for the final installment of this Fic. I can't express how grateful I am. **


	24. Oaths To Be Broken

_A/N: Not my best, but thought you all would enjoy a little fluff before the "end". Many thanks to Dr. Atom bomb who changed my mind whether to reveal this or not. This is actually part of the plot so… enjoy it as much as you can :) Misty_

The night was thick and foggy, concealing the young man well as he skirted amongst the canvas tents of the Varden. A tent of the same color and size as any of the others was the object of his attention, Nasuada's tent, the leader of the Varden. With a flick of his wrist the guards fell victim to unconsciousness, allowing free access to her quarters. He entered, sword in hand.

There she was, sleeping quietly in the opposite corner, her soft breathing calmed his pounding heart, her angelic face smoothed of all worries, caused his usually sure footsteps to falter as he crossed the tent in four big strides. Her long curly black hair that he had loved so much was braided and wrapped about her slender waist, halted his breath.

Murtagh dropped the sword in guilt and horror. He would never kill the person that made the world worth living in. Galbatorix was either a fool for sending him, or just as cruel as Murtagh thought he was.

Memories started berating his mind.

_He'd been there for two days, two days of comfort, food and anything else he could wish for. The only thing he was not allowed was company… the only thing he desired most. Books and scrolls could only give him so much. Giving up, the book fell against his face as he laid back in defeat. Boredom was one foe he could not quell. After a few minutes of his continuing self-pity, someone tapped on the door and opened it. Murtagh refused to look up, his bruised pride would not allow it. The musty old book still was still on his __face. _

_A beautiful laugh filled the space, "I, personally, find it hard to read when the words of my book are stuck to my face." Murtagh peeled the book off his face, desperate to see the owner of such a voice. _

_He was not disappointed; Hair as black as midnight hung loose around her slender waist and it contrasted with her dark skin, the color of that coffee Eragon insisted he drink all the time. The silver tunic did her figure a favor, as well as accenting her nearly black eyes. Murtagh stepped closer; he'd never seen eyes like that. "My Lady." He bowed low. She smiled, lighting up the room and Murtagh's mood, "Please, I prefer Nasuada."_

_"Nasuada it is then." Murtagh met her eyes, and that is when his life finally took a turn for the better.._

The vision over took him and he kneeled beside her, his head against her bed, shaken by grief; Sword and mission forgotten. "Nasuada, please forgive me."

"I do, Murtagh." Nasuada laid a hand on his arm. Startled, Murtagh jerked his head up to reveal the tears slipping down his scarred face. "I didn't know you were awake." Murtagh tried to dry his tears but to no avail, instead he gripped her hand like a lifeline, his lifeline. She turned on her side and touched his cheek gently.

"I've missed you." He whispered hoarsely, kissing her hand with wet tears. "Come here," She tugged his hand. With surprise but without hesitation he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her. It was then he realized that she was tearful as well; her crystalline tears glistened against his mail vest. With one arm he undid the leather ties and threw the metal on the floor, allowing only his wool tunic between them. With a grateful sigh, Nasuada held him closer. This was the first time in the past year that he felt warm, loved, and his heart fulfilled. Even though they were on the brink of the greatest war in history she would not waste the precious time given they were given so graciously.

_Murtagh looked upon Nasuada, sleeping so silently curled up against him. His strong arms held her as close as he dared. Being captive isn't so bad, he smiled. Ajihad had been keeping him in the most luxurious prison chamber the mountain had. It was better than his old room at Galbatorix's castle. Especially now that Nasuada was here. They been together for a while; he was always waiting for her to walk through the door. This day, Nasuada had come to him tearful and beyond exhaustion, demanding the guards not to open the door until she said so. Murtagh led her to bed where she confessed her fears of the failing Varden and the militant life her father expected her to live. Murtagh consoled her gently until she finally fell asleep against him, where she lay ever since. "I love you." He murmured against her ebony hair. Her faint smile told him she was listening._

"What happened to you?" Her soft voice prodded him back to the present.

"Nasuada, I was forced. There is nothing I can—" He had propped himself on his elbow as if to emphasize his point.

Nasuada stopped him; "I thought you knew by now you didn't have to prove yourself to me? The Murtagh I know would never betray his friends. I'm worried about _you_, not about what you've been forced to do."

Friends. That's what the Varden had given him. That is what Nasuada gave him; friendship. She was the one who did not judge him as the condemned son of a monster; someone who did not treat him like a pawn in a huge game of forsaken chess.

"Its unbearable. Being forced to serve the person you hate and fear the most." Nasuada saw the unfriendly steel creep back into his features, he was turning into the Murtagh every one hated and feared; her worst enemy. His body started turning rigid as bad memories afflicted him. Doing what she had meant to do a long time ago she grabbed the front of his tunic and kissed him hard, trying to counter the ice-veined monster that threatened to ruin this night. As Murtagh returned the favor ten fold Nasuada remembered that Murtagh was now a feared rider. She was committing treason of the highest kind. _Who cares_? Her rebellious side rejoiced as Murtagh took control.

Though, the more she thought about it, the more tainted and dirty she felt.

Fate was cruel; Nasuada discovered what Murtagh learned years before. How was it fair that two desperate people that completed each other on so many levels had to be forced enemies? Whatever walls wedged between Murtagh and Nasuada were broken down.

"Its hard," Murtagh finally inhaled. Nasuada raised an eyebrow. "Being us." He explained.

"I wish it weren't this way," She picked at the fabric of his tunic. He suddenly remembered what he was sent here to do. "Nasuada—"

"Don't," She sighed heavily, "I already know why you are here." Murtagh only put his arms back around her.

After a long pause Nasuada spoke urgently, "You don't need to do this."

"I'm not." His voice was unnaturally fierce in the blackness of the tent. "I would rather kill myself."

"Then how are you breaking the oath you pledged to kill me?"

Exhaustion littered Murtagh's handsome face, "I don't know. For once in my life I wish instead of being alone to figure out everything someone or _something_ could help me."

"I wish Arya was here. She would know."

"Are you insane? The she-elf would soon as dismember me than help me!"

Nasuada shushed his exclamation. "She would help you only if she knew she could break the oaths of Galbatorix."

Murtagh didn't talk for several long seconds. "Eragon's too protective of her. He wouldn't allow it. Besides, we are on the brink of the Great Battle as it is… its too late."

"Let me handle that. For now let's talk to Roran. " Nasuada got out of bed and grabbed his hand.

"Roran? His insane cousin who smashes people with hammers?" Murtagh shook as he stepped out of the tent. Goose bumps rose on his entire body, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the cold. For all he knew, Nasuada was unknowingly leading him to his death. Thorn was too far away to help him counter attack any spell Eragon threw at him. Then again, Nasuada always proved to have a plan even in the direst of situations.

As he walked through the pitch-black camp of his artificial enemies, he felt safe, knowing that he could place just as much trust in Nasuada as she put into him.

And that trust was the only thing that kept him breathing as Nasuada awoke Roran.


	25. The Final Countdown Part I

**The Final Countdown**

**24:00**

Only two beings witnessed Murtagh slip through the Varden camp, his escape was as quiet as the night itself. Roran's eyes were still trained in his direction, "You truly believe we can trust him?" Roran whispered to Nasuada. "Is this even going to work?"

"Do we have a choice?" Nasuada whispered back, her eyes still looking out into the foggy horizon where the only man who would ever hold her heart disappeared into.

**Eragon P.O.V. **

'_Why am I here? Show me!'_ Eragon demanded, eagerly scanned the dark horizon of the dream realm he was currently trying to talk to.

A light appeared in the distance, and he took off running with out hesitation. For miles and miles he sprinted, hungry for an explanation for his existence in the realm. The light drew him in like a moth to a fire. It was a soft glow that only seemed to push farther away as Eragon came closer.

The only time his mind was aware of his surroundings was when he passed a dead shrub, the same one he had seen Arya at in his dream.…_Or reality_, he mused dryly. This place was as real as the tent he was sleeping in. Though the problem was just that; Eragon was currently sleeping in the temporary camp of the Elves, not running through some barren land.

The light was close now, so close. He had been running for hours by the time he could see the source of the light.

It was a cave. Eragon gasped, stopping within five feet of the monstrous cave. It was shut, closed up by rock, yet easily recognizable as a cave. He knew what this was, the only possible thing it could be.

The Vault of Souls.

"_Eragon"_, he whispered. Nothing happened. With a frown his said his name louder, _"Eragon"_.

Why wasn't it opening? The Werecat said, 'speak your name to the Vault of Souls and it will open.'

"_Eragon!"_ He yelled, panicking.

_Eragon!_ Saphira roared above him.

Eragon rolled out of his covers with a start, rudely brought back to reality by his other half. _Do not shut me out! How many times must I go over this? _Angry smoke emitted from her nostrils directly into his own, causing him to snort and cough.

_Why have you woken me?_ He snapped right back. He had been so close, maybe if he said his name louder, or tried another phrase along with his name... maybe.

Eragon's thoughts were whirling: A cave, that may possibly be the Vault of Souls, was located in a mysterious realm that Eragon seemed to have no control over. He couldn't close his eyes and transport himself there, it was the will of the realm itself, so it seemed.

"You were having a fit, Shadeslayer." Islanzadi said from behind the angry couple. Eragon immediately turned and touched his fingers to his lips, "your Majesty, my apologies for whatever disturbance I have caused."

_Oh, you suck_- Saphira began to snarl in his mind, Eragon blocked her out, "How may I be of assistance?" Eragon became hyper aware of his lack of proper clothing, loose trousers and no shirt.

If this happened to bother the Queen, she gave no sign. "We ride out as the sun sets. Everything is in motion, we just received word from the Dwarves: they await our action." Islanzadi's tone was confusing Eragon, she sounded distracted and distant, giving him a peculiar look. "If you would meet my council in my own quarters?"

Eragon bowed, not inquiring on the Queen's odd behavior, waiting for her to leave the room. With a slight gasp he was startled by the Queen's quick step towards him, he looked down to see her white nails embedded into his bare skin, "Eragon, what I am about to tell you is for you and you alone. Do you understand?" Islanzadi whispered urgently. Eragon stepped away from her tight grasp cautiously, "Of course, your Majesty."

Islanzadi cut straight to the point, "I had spies who returned in the dead of night last eve."

Saphira shared a look with Eragon.

"Were going to lose, Eragon." Her voice was low, afraid to be overheard. "My spies reported no less than 60,000 brute soldiers from within the gates of Uru Baen. Even more have been reported from the inside."

Islanzadi's voice shook as she pulled a scroll out from beneath her dress robes. "I've received numbers from our force, "6,000 axes from the Dwarves, 4,500 swords from the Varden. The Elves have little over 1,500 bows accounted for, yet we make up for it in skill. That's 12,000 warriors, Eragon. "

Eragon felt his plummet into his stomach, he steadied himself courtesy of Saphira. 12,000 to over 60,000... unheard of.

"I know what you keep hidden within your mind, I know this place you dream of." Islanzadi once again stepped closer and whispered, "you will find your answers from a Werecat, which I remember hearing you have befriended. Go now, Eragon. For this is the only hope we have. With out the help of whatever lies within the Vault of Souls, we will all be marching to our demise. Tell no one of this, not even Arya." She turned to leave but stopped herself, "Be there at Uru Baen when the Elves attack as soon as the first half of the sun shows itself. As soon as it hits the mid line – we attack."

She was gone as quickly as she had appeared.

**22:00**

Eragon was packing as fast as possible. Saphira was launching their items to him as fast as he could shove them into his pack. _Angela resides with the Varden and the Werecat is always with her_, Saphira thought with a sigh, _an easy two days fly from here, nonstop. _

_Well, we are going to make it half a day_, Eragon tightened his saddle bags to the quick, traveling saddle. He readied himself to mount when his mind was bombarded with feeling: hurt, betrayal, disappointment and worry. With a gasp he turned around, "Arya," his voice was desperate.

Arya was grounded in one place, a bundle of freshly washed clothes in her arms. Her face was an open book... Eragon was in a lot of trouble. "Where could you possibly be going the day before the biggest battle in history?" Arya's word sliced into him.

"Arya, please, I'm doing this for every one's good."

"How is deserting us, deserting _me, _doing any good?" Arya snapped.

Eragon felt the clock ticking, he didn't have time to explain the secret he shared with Islanzadi. "Trust me, you have to trust me."

Arya took a step backwards, like he had slapped her, "You won't tell me?" Her usually even voice was thick with rage.

"I can't, Arya, I just can't." Eragon tried to step closer but Arya's glare had him backtracking.

"You and your trust can just leave then." Arya turned on her heel to walk away.

Eragon didn't know what to do, he was paralyzed, _I love you_, He spoke into her mind, feeding her his emotion.

She stopped in her tracks, her mind shut like an iron door, blasting Eragon's mental self flat on his ass. "Love is nothing without trust." With that she stormed away.

**19:00**

Eragon and Saphira were both still fuming three hours later. Saphira was pumping her wings hard and luckily the wind was with them, easing her work load. _The nerve,_ Saphira repeated for the millionth time since they took off.

Eragon rested his cheek against the hot scales on Saphira's neck and sighed; all he was trying to do was save everyone's lives, and he got thrown on his backside by the one person who was making this all worth it.

_And me_. Saphira pipped up, _I make it worth it, too. _

_You make it possible_.

_Do you truly believe that cave you saw was the Vault of Souls? _Saphira switched the topic.

_Yes, now that Islanzadi mentioned it, there is no doubt in my mind. The problem is getting into it, it's like I finally got close enough to touch it and I woke up._

_You woke up because I told you to._

_It was more than that, the cave was shut, yet a light glowed from within it_. Eragon sighed,_ I know, 'speak your name to the Vault of Souls and it will open.' And I did speak my name, I yelled my name, yet it stayed shut._

Saphira snorted fire in frustration, _The Werecat must have made a mistake._

Somehow, Eragon didn't think so. _Saphira_, He began his debate warily, _if Eragon was my True Name, then how come I don't react like Sloan did whenever someone calls me? Why do I not twitch, or become controlled? If the Shade said my name, like he did, I should be dead right now. He would have had complete control over me._

Saphira was silent for a long while,_ maybe it's because you have been called by your True Name your entire life. Maybe you have become immune to its physical reactions._

Eragon doubted this. He had seen the way Sloan reacted when he spoke Sloan's True Name, that wasn't something that grew callous.

The more Eragon thought about the Vaults lack of response to his name... the more he doubted Eragon was his True Name. It was unnerving and disappointing.

He had so much to do, in such a short amount of time. Unfortunately, the world depended on his actions. Which in Eragon's point of view, is never a good thing.

He hated it when Alagaesia depended on him.

**18:32**

**Orik's P.O.V.**

I knew, when I accepted my inheritance as King that this day would come. Eragon, my brother in ritual and clan, has our fate in his hands. I will assist him in numbers and militia. He was there for us and now I will return the favor.

I hear the rumors, the scorn of my people against my decision to go to war. It is amusing for me to hear them whisper their doubts in the tavern, for a drunk Dwarf is never quiet. They say i'm Warmongering and a 'disturber of the peace'.

Instead of rethinking my decision, their scorn only drives me forward. Every king has his moment, a moment where he proves himself to his people. Tomorrow is not only my moment, but Orin and Nasuada's as well. We are three young adults who have been handed over leadership, defying the suspicions of our people.

Tomorrow, I will either become the greatest king my clan has ever seen in history, or die fighting for every drunk and doubtful Dwarf in this colony.

**17:00**

**Rhune's P.O.V.**

I've fought many battles, some petty, most serious; all bloody, all gory.

All the same.

Maybe this will alter our fate? Perhaps it will alter the enemy's?

I have been working day and night in this makeshift forge, under command of the Queen. I'm suffering from the lack of my past spoils: Fir wood instead of Alder. Iron hammers instead of my granite and moon rock. My age is catching up with me already. I feel my very spine tightening.

Elves are immortal, not age proof so it seems.

The only difference this war could offer would be my demise.

My spine cracked as I straightened from my tedious work.

I would welcome whatever end.

**16:00**

**Eragon's P.O.V.**

Eragon grinned, Saphira was making record time. They had already crossed the halfway point between the Varden's camp and the Elves, yet it had only been six hours since they departed. _Saphira, love, when we reach the Varden camp all you have to worry about is sleeping, leave the rest to me._ Eragon transferred some of his energy into his tiring Dragon.

Her weariness was evident, _I might take you up on your offer_.

_I believe we are almost there_, Eragon used his raptor vision and spotted smoke several miles off, _in fact we are here._

Saphira grunted as she hit the ground, immediately servants were helping the sweaty Eragon off of his steaming Dragon, stripping his belonging's off the saddle. Then taking the saddle off Saphira, where she promptly collapsed. Eragon laid a shaking hand on her and transferred more of his energy into her.

_Stop, stop, you need to save all the energy you can possibly save. I'll be fine._ She sent him away.

Instead of greeting Eragon with a hug, Roran saw the urgency in Eragon's eyes. "What can I do?" Roran asked immediately.

"I need Angela the witch."

Roran blinked, surprised yet unsurprised at Eragon's random behavior and request. He always had been a peculiar fellow, he had learned to expect no less. Roran escorted the weary Eragon to a tent far off from the others, Eragon could already smell the herbs and phantom scents.

"Thank you, brother." Eragon hugged him tightly before entering the smoky tent. Angela sat on a two legged stool stirring what looked awfully like nightshade in a boiling pot of water. "Eragon," She greeted, not taking her eyes off her concoction, "Good to see you before the big day."

"I need the Werecat." Eragon said.

Angela cursed as her startled flinch caused some of the tainted water to spill over, "And why would you want to do that?"

"I have questions, he has answers."

Angela grinned, "Perfect. Solembum!" She called over her shoulder. The sleek Werecat emerged from a pile of steaming rags.

_There is only one reason why you would come here so late on the eve of battle_. Solembum's voice was like a tingling sensation in his mind.

_You know why I am here, and I am begging for answers. Why won't the Vault open for my True Name? You said it would._

_I suggested it_, Solembum hopped up on a shelf full of glass viles,_ I suppose you want me to tell you what the Vault is?_

_Please,_ Eragon breathed, relieved that the Werecat was cooperating.

_The Vault of Souls holds the Souls of all deceased Dragon's, you and your Elvin friends call the Eldunari. _

_That's impossible_, Eragon countered, _Galbatorix has all the Eldunari besides Glaedr's, which I have._

_They told me you were clever, son of Brom. A soul has never been a physical form. What Galbatorix has, what you have, is the only connection we in the living world have with the souls. They still exist in the spiritual world. _The cat flicked his tail with annoyance.

_So you knew that Brom was my father, too? Was everyone in on the secret besides me?_ Eragon knew he was off topic, but couldn't help himself. Eragon was still sore about being kept in the dark about his parentage.

_Anyone who happened to exist back in those days couldn't help but notice the undercover relationship. Brom was blinded by his feelings for Serena, he couldn't foresee the consequences of his actions. It amuses me to no end, the irony of his later occupation, a wise man. _Solembum had both of his almond shaped eyes on Eragon, _he thought he knew the truth of your name? Is that right?_

_You are reading my mind?_ Eragon searched for any sign of the Werecat's presence within his mental shield, there was no trace.

B_rom may have been clever and wise in your eyes, but he was blind to many things. Whatever led that Rider to believe your name is your common name is beyond me._ Solombum seemed very agitated. _Why where you naive enough to believe something so... outrageous?_

_I trusted Brom completely. He has never led me astray._ Eragon sounded like a broken record even to his own ears. He was beginning to doubt what Saphira had relayed to him from Brom.

_Yes, yes, we all trust. _Solembum voice snapped like his tail, _but that doesn't mean we allow ourselves to be blinded by it. Time is running out. The only way to defeat the Evil King is to request the souls of the Dragons assistance. Figure out your name and then come back to me and I will transport you to the entrance of the Vault of Souls. _

_How can you do that? How am I supposed to figure out my name?_ Eragon cried in outrage. The Cat gave him a look that had him backing out of the room. With a second thought he walked back in, "Angela, I need your help."

"Indeed."

"Can you please help me discover my True Name?" Eragon knew it was too much to ask. He had to try.

Angela set her stirring stick down, "It's not my place."

"This is your place. If I don't find out my name we will all die."

"Certainly." She eye Solembum as he sauntered out of the room. "Since obviously you don't care about self discovery what so ever..." She patted the stool next to her, "Have a seat."

Eragon did so, half expecting her to splash him with her poisoned water.

"The knuckle bones of a dragon do more than tell your future." Angela sighed warily, looking somewhat her true age for once, "I remember Serena's fortune as clearly as I remember yours, crystal clear. I predicted she would bear two son's: one, a bastard child, the other was the son of a monster. The eldest son, I predicted, would succumb completely to darkness in the end." Angela shrugged.

Eragon shook his head, "I still believe Murtagh can change, he's under oath. He's not willingly doing what he is."

"Can you change the future?" Angela was looking straight into his eyes. Enough so that it rendered Eragon temporarily speechless and scrambling for words. "I don't know." He said, dumbly.

Angela whacked him quickly with her stirring stick, so hard he saw stars. "What in the seven Dwarf hells was that for?" He snapped angrily, rubbing his temple.

Angela said, "Could you have changed that? Could you have prevented it from happening?"

Eragon gritted his teeth, "I could if I would have seen it coming first..." As soon as the words left his mouth Eragon had an epiphany.

Angela looked him straight in the eye, "In two seconds, I'm going to hit you."

Eragon's hand grabbed the stick as fast as lightening. He changed the future as it became the present.

Angela had already done the predicting, Eragon knew what was coming and he could try to change it. Angela smiled, clearly pleased with herself. She moved on to the next lesson.

"I predicted only one more thing for your pregnant mother the day she came in my shop. She asked me about her son's True Names, and I saw only one clearly, Murtagh's true name. The other one, yours, I could only guess at. I wasn't as experienced then as I was now." Angela clenched her fists, "If I saw then what I see now in the Dragon bones, Eragon, you would have had quite a different life. You would have been brought up like an Elvin child, trained like a Rider for years until you even reached Saphira's egg. My sight then was dull, indeed."

"What do you think my True Name is?"

"I think the question that you should ask first is what was Murtagh's True Name, that might answer your question." Angela suggested quietly, then sniffed as Eragon failed to ask her, "His True Name is Dark, Eragon. It is the most plain, and boring True Name I have ever discovered. Since you're his brother, only one option makes the most sense. Only one symbol did I see on the day your mother came to me."

"Light," Eragon sighed... "God above, my True name is light." He spoke in common tongue, he was afraid of speaking his own name.

"It's not as if someone who is in a conversation and happens upon the word 'light' will have complete control over you. Its when someone addresses you and commands in the ancient language, 'light'. Luckily, for you and Murtagh, all dragon riders have more than one name, unlike us poor common folk."

"The name of my sword," Eragon put his head in his hands, it had been so simple as 'light'? "So my True Name is Fire Light?" Eragon laughed at the ridiculous Name.

Angela gave him a pitying look, "Must I explain everything? Yes, Brisingr means 'Fire' in the common conversation. But the way you use it, the way your sword uses the term, it means 'Bringer of Fire'."

Eragon was confused, "My own name is Light, am I supposed to combine the two?"

Angela gave him a smile, "I've already done that. It was easy once I thought about it. Eragon, Shadeslayer, Shur'tugal, you are The Bringer of Fire and Light. The Light in the Dark."

Eragon felt numb.

_Well that was so much better than just Eragon._ Saphira moaned from her heap nearly a half mile away.

**15:00 **

"I've never, ever, been more insulted in my life!" Nasuada steamed, standing in front of Eragon at her full 5'10" of dark beauty. "You have been here for over an hour and you've yet to come see me?"

Eragon couldn't help but smile, Nasuada's anger melted and she embraced Eragon, who hugged her back. "I praise the gods that you are here, Eragon. I've so much to tell you."

They broke apart, still smiling.

"Come with me." She led him to what Eragon believed was her private tent. It contained her bed, desk, and a table. "Sit." She followed her own instructions, which Eragon hastily copied. "Is there any one listening?" She asked.

Eragon immediately responded, "No. The closest guard is approximately ten feet away." He always knew who was around him.

"I had an unexpected visitor last night." She murmured, picking at her fingernails, "Your brother, Eragon. He came into this tent just last night."

Eragon's jaw dropped, "He just... walked in?" The fact that Murtagh could walk through the Varden camp without being noticed was an embarassment.

"Who was on guard?" He questioned, anger began bubbling in his chest. It was Lord-Willing that Nasuada was even alive... she was alive... Why was she alive?

"What did he want?" Eragon was almost scared to ask.

"He was sent to kill me, Eragon." Nasuada met his eyes, "It turned out quite different."

"Why didn't he?" Realization was beginning to draw back and smack Eragon in the face, something that he had over looked long ago when Murtagh was locked in a cell. How sweetly he had talked of Nasuada; how she gushed over seeing him.

"I love him, Eragon." Nasuada's voice was barely audible, though her eyes were defiant and clear, "And he loves me. He wept before me and revealed his inner turmoil. Galbatorix is destroying him. Murtagh wants to change so badly, he wants to break out of Galbatorix's clutches."

Eragon put his head in his hands, "I had no idea. Nasuada, tell me you have him in holding somewhere here."

"We let him go."

"We?"

"Roran and I talked with Murtagh. We have... come up with something that may shift the fate of this looming battle for the better." Nasuada saw Eragon's betrayed expression. "I beg you, keep an open mind."

"You are blinded by love." Eragon snapped, startling her. "Why else would you make a deal with a sworn enemy?"

"Would you have made such a claim if I hadn't breathed a word of my feelings?" Nasuada retaliated.

"No, no I wouldn't have."

"Eragon Garrowson, I would never have expected you of all people to be so shallow." This hurt Eragon more than Nasuada realized. She continued, "We are not in a position to let help just walk away, I'm sure you'd agree?"

"Yes." Eragon sighed.

"Murtagh is on our side, do you understand?"

"Yes." _No, not really. _Eragon and Saphira said to each other in unison.

"You will do everything I tell you to do in order to help Murtagh complete his mission."

"Yes."

"Good. Now," She clapped her hands, "Down to business."

Eragon hung his head like a beaten dog. This all felt entirely wrong.

**13:00**

Eragon was somewhat oddly comforted by the time he returned to the heap of blue scales in the middle of the courtyard, which was Saphira. _Hello, Everything._ Eragon sat down heavily beside her.

_My bones ache_, she groaned, shaking the earth beneath Eragon. _You'll recover,_ Eragon wished grimly.

_In an hour?_ Saphira huffed, t_he sun has nearly set, little one. It's time to leave._

_Don't I know it._ Eragon leaned against her warm scales and fell asleep.

"Oh, if only I had my canvas! This would make an extraordinary portrait!" Nasuada's maid awakened both Dragon and Rider from their deep sleep. They both were startled to find an audience before them, all silly faced.

_Away from me, humans_. Saphira grumpily projected to everyone within sight. Nasuada stepped forward, "Gear up and saddle up, we move out in minutes."

Saphira and Eragon broke a record... for the slowest tack up in the history of Alagaesia.

It was so bad that Jormandur, Nasuada's general, assisted Eragon in fixing the straps of Saphira's saddle.

Saphira wore her armor yet not the war saddle. They needed the lightest load possible and the tooled war saddle was more for show than anything else. Eragon fixed the final straps on his arm band, tucking Brisingr safe inside its sheath and hauled himself upon Saphira. Who happened to yawn like a lion at that moment, flame erupting carelessly from her mouth and scorching the empty tents in front of her.

"Well, that helps with the packing." Jormandur commented dryly from behind Eragon. "You two will scout ahead, you know where we are going."

Without a word, they took of silently, tearing through the night sky.

Eragon yawned loudly, his breath whooshing past his face as they flew. _Hopefully, I won't fall asleep before I am able to access the Vault of Souls. _He commented dryly.

_Hopefully, I won't fall asleep while I'm flying_. Saphira retorted.

What had they done to themselves?

A/N. I know what I said. 2 weeks. Final chapter. Well, you get one more big chapter. I just pulled a Paolini and realized my plot was too big for only one more chapter. (or in his case, book.) Please forgive me, don't be too critical of my writing, and please review. Believe it or not I actually really enjoy reading what you have to say about my story.

Now, onward to the final battle! And since school is almost out (I'm in college, so unfortunately finals will be taking up my life for the next couple days,) I will be dedicated to finishing this story once and for all.

Thanks,

Misty


	26. The Final Countdown Part II

A/N: An amazing thing happened; I finally sat down with my Brisingr book, two copies of the map of Alagaesia… and a whole lot paper. This is the product of hours of research, editing, checking, double checking, calculating the correct countdown, cross-referencing my information…. and stressing about your reactions to this final chapter. –big sigh- honestly… if you don't like it don't tell me. I worked too damn hard.

Spelling Check: Selena (I happened to write Serena in the last chapter), who is Eragon's deceased mother. I also forgot an R in Orrin. Yes, I understand I got the eye color mixed in a very early chapter for all you new readers (who I appreciate dearly ). This chapter took such a long time because I truly had to think about battle plans, draw out maps, write and re-write battle scenes that just didn't work (but now do!) and procrastinate. Now that I've answered most of the questions and comments I received…. Welcome to the final chapter of Arya's Wyrda…

"_We can, and we must"_, said Saphira.

"_For the sake of our friends and our family -_

_- and for the rest of Alagaesia -_

_-we must do this."_

-Brisingr

When the Wise Hesitate

12:00 (hours left till battle)

Islanzadi:

"So be it, your Majesty. The fate of Alagaesia is wavering I will do my best to see that your will is done." My beautiful daughter, Arya, bowed and exited the tent. If there was any other time that I have wished for my husband's presence and guidance before, it was nothing compared to the deep ache I possessed for him now. I am in need of assistance, yet I am the Queen of the most powerful race in Alagaesia, my own help is needed elsewhere.

My assistance is stretched in multiple directions. Who is to help _me_? Nature? The ruined terrace beneath my feet? Singing will be of no use in this war. I only have one secret left to save us and it is unlikely at best.

I am lost within my own self. There are songs about my loyal deeds, poems of my unmatched wisdom, yet am I wise? At the moment my only thoughts are hesitations and doubts. Do the wise hesitate? Are the powerful doubt? All I am certain of is the future shaking battle that is to take place tomorrow. Whether or not my newfound secret will be of any assistance is yet to be decided by my own daughter.

Fate, Arya had said, the word awakens a deep and buried emotion. Fate is the future one is destined to have. Alagaesia's true fate rests on the shoulders of Eragon and Saphira. I am thankful to not carry the brunt of this burden.

I will fight tomorrow for the fate of Eragon and Saphira, for Arya and Alagaesia… to whatever end.

Here We are Again

_Got a whale of a tale to tell ya, lads__  
__A whale of a tale or two__  
__'Bout the flappin' fish and the girls I've loved_  
_On nights like this with the moon above__  
__A whale of a tale and it's all true__  
__I swear by my tattoo_

Eragon finished while ignoring Saphira's snorting laughter. It was a dreary song he had heard a sailor in Teirm singing as he swabbed the deck of a decrepit ship. In Eragon's own defense he was feeling particularly dreary at the moment.

_Oh, quiet you_. Eragon squeezed his knees into Saphira's sides, silencing her laughter. They had been flying throughout the early afternoon, silent. The masters of the sky scoped the coming path that would lead the Varden towards the biggest battle in Alagaesian history.

Eragon did not wish to think of this inconvenient truth as the pair flew onward. That was the reason he was singing the depressed tunes of a lonely sailor. There was no doubt as time ticked down that he was going to die. Maybe the loss would be for a good cause, but even then, there was still no guarantee that the Varden and the rest of the rebellion could still defeat Galbatorix. Eragon and Saphira are the last hope, they have to stay alive. Which is easier said than done since they would have to fight through two Empire Dragon's and their Riders to win.

"_We can do this_," he thought. "_Galbatorix isn't invulnerable. He has a weakness, and we can use that weakness against him… We can do this". –Brisingr_

So positive Eragon had been just a few months ago; now all he has left is raw hope. So many unanswered questions on his mind: How was he supposed to access the Vault of Souls? What would he find once he did enter the Vault of Souls? What exactly was Galbatorix' weakness, anyways?

Eragon and Saphira had run into an infuriating roadblock when they learned that Solembum, the Werecat who had willingly offered up his information of the Vault of Souls, had vanished while they were sleeping in the middle of the Varden camp only a few hours ago.

"_What do you mean, 'he's gone'? Eragon growled along with Saphira. Angela slapped down her stirring rod, "Don't get sassy. I have told you time and time again; Solembum goes where he pleases when he pleases. He just happens to gravitate towards me."_

That turned out to be a very unpleasant conversation ending with Eragon being shooed out of the witch's tent like a rodent.

Eragon prayed the cat had something bad coming its way for leaving him in his desperate time of need. He needed to enter the Vault of Souls; he needed to discover its secrets. Normally that would mean consulting Arya, yet she despised Eragon at the moment for leaving her and the Elves behind the day before battle.

Amidst his frustrations, Eragon sensed a familiar presence a few miles off. Usually, this wouldn't spike the duo's interest, but this presence was that of great supernatural power. Saphira picked up on Eragon's thoughts and her line of flight drifted slightly to the east where the mystery person was located. Eragon's keen eyes searched the tree lined shore of the Ramr River.

_There_, he directed. Eragon could not begin to unveil the supernatural person's identity. "Show yourself," Eragon commanded, dismounting and walking forward, his magic at the ready.

A voice that warmed Eragon to the core whispered, "Fricai onr eka eddyr," (I am your friend) Arya emerged from the brush. Eragon and Saphira relaxed instantly. He stepped forward, "Eta, ono varda iet eddyr." (No, you are more than my friend.)

Sweat soaked and exhausted Arya came closer and Eragon pulled her into a much needed embrace. "When I first heard that the Queen had confided in you an urgent secret I felt jealousy unlike I've ever known." She explained against him. "Please forgive me, Eragon, I was in despair."

Eragon shook his head, wondering how Arya made it to the end of the Ramr River so fast, "There is nothing to forgive, Arya Drottningu. You must understand that I wanted to tell you, but the Queen wished me not to speak of it."

_Arya, how did you get here so fast? It's only been a matter of hours since we left the Elvin camp, a_sked Saphira.

A tired smile crossed her face, _by horse, then by foot, then by a small water craft I commandeered off a drunken Empire guard. _

That caused Eragon to laugh and pull back, "All to apologize for nothing?" His chuckling soon stopped as Arya pulled him gently back to her, "I gave you my word that I was with you to the end. I am honoring the Yawe between us."

An intense bond of friendship: Yawe. Eragon swallowed, feeling her eyes bore into his, her hand on his arm. She didn't even smell like sweat, her scent was still of pine and the wet forest floor…

"Eragon?" Arya asked. "Are you paying attention?"

"No. " Eragon blinked, trying to clear his head.

"The Vault of Souls; what have you discovered?"

Eragon summed up his findings starting with the dream where he couldn't get the cave to open, to Angela revealing his True Name, ending with the Werecat's disappearance. "Arya, things are not going well. I do not even know where to begin."

Arya straightened to her full height and squared her shoulders. She was going to tell him what a terrible job he was doing and how disappointed she was, he knew it. Eragon closed his eyes and prepared himself for the wrath of a frustrated Elfin Princess. Instead, he felt a rush of air go past him as Arya lithely jumped upon Saphira's back, "We have work to do."

Saphira's odd facial expression and emotions let Eragon know that the whole situation was funny to her. _You looked like a dog that was about to be whipped by its master_, she observed. Arya, who was kept out of the conversation, obviously didn't feel like being excluded. "Are you going to fight a war, or stand there looking like an Urgal learning Rimgar?"

Eragon ducked his head, climbing in front of Arya. "What do you know of the Grey Folk?" She asked.

Eragon remembered that the Grey Folk were the first Race to establish themselves in Alagaesia, and the creators of the Ancient Language. "The power it took for them to bind the Ancient Language wiped out their entire population." He stated slowly, suspicious of her intentions. "What are you getting at?"

She sighed, "The chances are so slim I almost do not want to bother explaining. But we believe that the Grey Folk have prevailed throughout the ages, hidden, far away from humans and other Races. We have reason to believe that they are out there still able to perform mental or wild magic. I know of one for sure, he lives in an old Elvin outpost and is extremely abrasive and shy. His characteristics will prove most challenging."

Eragon felt like hitting his head against one of Saphira's spikes, "Tenga." How could he not put the pieces together? Tenga had used mental magic to light his fireplace without a second glance, only a powerful being could have accomplished that.

Arya nodded, "Tenga is the only known survivor. So far only the Queen has known of his true identity."

_When did you meet this person?_ Saphira asked of Eragon.

"I met him on the way back from Helgrind." Eragon grinned, relief spreading over him, "If we could convince Tenga and the others, if there are any, to help us we would practically be unstoppable!"

Arya halted Eragon's exuberance, "The problem is just that. We don't know whether or not Tenga will be of any assistance, let alone his kinsman if there are any. This is our last hope."

Eragon squeezed her hands gently before releasing them, "I have a Werecat to find and interrogate until death, Arya. I cannot go searching for someone who doesn't want to be found, especially if there is no guarantee Tenga will help us."

"You claim the Werecat has the answer to the Vault of Souls?" She asked.

"Yes but -"

"Angela refuses to tell you of his whereabouts?"

"Yes but—"Eragon's excuse was interrupted by Arya's command. "Turn around. We must go back to the Varden."

_Fly back?_ Saphira choked. Eragon had a strong inclination of what Arya was doing, _she's right Saphira_, and he sighed. _We must turn around._

The Cat, The Witch, and The Man Who Kicks at Cats

10:00 (Hours Left)

After sullenly sitting through Saphira's many curses and grumblings they finally found the Varden marching midway between Dras-Leona and the end of the Ramr River, in other words, the army was making wonderful time. "Halt!" Jormundur commanded to his army as Eragon, Arya, and Saphira landed in front of the massive army. Arya leapt off Saphira's back, Eragon hastily slid off, worried as Arya straightened her shoulders and surged forward.

Nasuada announced dryly "Arya, it's a pleasure to see you alive."

Arya had to yell for her voice to be heard, "Where is Angela?"

Seeing the Princesses wrath Nasuada turned on her horse and yelled loudly over her people, "Where is Angela the Witch? Let her come forth immediately for we have no time to spare!" Warriors whispered to one another, people looked around. Suddenly the crowd parted and out stepped Angela. "To what do I owe this encounter?" She eyed Arya warily.

Arya stepped forward, leaving a foot of space between them. Speaking softly so that even the front ranks had to eagerly strain forward to hear, Arya sunk her teeth in deep, "When a person above your status seeks you for an answer you must leave your insufferable ego behind and answer truthfully and fully. When you play a part in the biggest battle in history, do not cause difficulty with your infuriating mind-games and annoyingly shallow intellects."

"I do not know what I have done to deserve such cruel words, your majesty." Angela retaliated, uncharacteristically solemn. Eragon was trying to keep a grimace off of his face.

Arya looked down upon the witch, "What you have done is taken advantage of someone who is not only of higher rank, but of higher integrity. Eragon's too trusting of those around him to question your truthfulness."

Angela laughed, "I have done no such thing."

"We are past childish denial. Withhold important information from Eragon once more and I'll have you brewing your own poison."Arya and Angela were both strong women in both their own ways, but as is custom, Angela submitted to Arya with a slight smile and curtsy. "That threat was indeed creative, your majesty."

Eragon knew he should be humiliated; Arya was stripping Angela of any dignity on his behalf, after all.

The only person who found this encounter even partly funny was Roran, who was grinning like an idiot in the front ranks, and of course Saphira who had been snorting fire at every threat and insult.

Angela looked at Arya thoughtfully, "You have fit into the princess stereotype quite well."

Arya's glare was withering. "Where is the Werecat?"

Angela sighed and took a step back, "You could have simply asked. Solembum is with the man who kicks at cats." She disappeared back into the awe-struck crowd. Arya nodded respectfully to Nasuada and King Orik, who hurriedly returned her courtesy, wide-eyed.

"He's with Tenga," Eragon announced as the trio launched back into the sky. Eragon remembered Solembum's description of the hermit clearly, 'He is a man who kicks at cats'. Saphira flew south towards Helgrind. Tenga lived in an Elvin outpost called Edur Ithindra just south of the black city.

_Arya, as much as I enjoyed your performance was all of that necessary?_ Eragon asked. Arya mentally shrugged_, nobody is to take advantage of you, Eragon. And if I have to humiliate someone to make sure that happens, then so be it_. _It is of the same nature Nasuada showed your brother, Roran. In order to keep it from happening in the masses you have to make an example of a single person._

_Well then, I appreciate your cutting words and humiliating threats_, said Eragon. Arya laughed out loud, "When they are not directed at you."

"That's precisely my point." Eragon looked over his shoulder and grinned. A funny thing happened; she smiled back.

Maybe it was the fact that they were almost guaranteed to die within hours, or maybe Arya finally caved into the fact that she had to kiss Eragon every once in a while. Nevertheless, they both leaned in towards each other. Eragon's mind stopped racing, his heart beat slowed to a steady rhythm as their lips touched for the first time in days-

Saphira rocked so hard Eragon and Arya had to scramble to stay on. _Not on my back_, Saphira growled. _My apologies, Saphira-Bjartskular,_ Arya apologized instantly; It was default for Elves to suck up to Dragons. Eragon, however, just glared at the back of Saphira's scaly head. Another perfect moment ruined by the other love of his life_._ Eragonlet her feel that he knew she was jealous.

_We have had this conversation afore, little one._ I _am the first love in your life. I shall never share it willingly._

Eragon shook his immature thoughts, _you're always first, and you know that. Arya knows that…_

_However, _Saphira said with more emotion than Eragon had ever heard in her voice_, it is most comforting to know that if or when I die in this battle you will not be alone afterwards. You will have another cut-throat female to look after you. The Great Dragon knows you need watching after._

Eragon gripped the pommel of the saddle hard_. _He thought seriously about his next sentence before he spoke in the Ancient Language,_ I promise you Saphira; if you die know that I followed close behind._

Arya tightened her grip on his waist; he had forgotten to block her out of their conversation. Blast it all.

_Oh, look_. Saphira tried lamely to ease the tension, _Helgrind._

They witnessed the ruins of Helgrind as Saphira flew cautiously above it. With their keen eyesight the trio was able to observe the pitiful amount of life left in the city; stray animals, starving children. Not so much different than before the Varden invaded which seriously bothered Eragon. _I had meant to help_, he swallowed his regret. Arya shared his feelings, _recovery_ _is always worse before it gets better. War is only half the battle._

_Not only do we have to kill the oath-breaker but we also must clean up after his mess,_ growled Saphira, snorting at the ungodly stench rising from the Black City.

_Luckily they will have a solid Queen to help them back to their feet,_ said Eragon. _It's odd, how Nasuada's the same age as I, yet she rules the Varden as well as any older man._

_You are just as extraordinary for a young human_, Saphira reassured_. _

_Nasuada has her moments, _Arya agreed_, but she has so many counselors and advisors to rely on, however air-headed they might be, you on the other hand only have a couple and even then, you tend to make your own decisions._

_I would make a terrible leader. I can hardly lead myself. It's just as well Nasuada is chosen to be the ruler of Alagaesia,_ Eragon grimaced at his whiny tone the moment it came out of his mouth.

Saphira hummed_, You have already been offered the position as King. I think it would be an appropriate role for you, little one. You need to be kept busy and out of trouble._

Eragon let the title 'King' wash over him until Arya pointed out, "There it is."

They hastily arrived at Edur Ithindra which was just as decrepit and broken as Eragon remembered it. Still inhabited by one crabby old hermit but this time there was a cat sitting well away from his feet.

Tenga, the man who kicks at cats, allowed them into his hut with abrasive hospitality. Saphira, content with laying her head across the front doorway, ignored the old man's piercing glare.

"We are here to talk about the Grey Folk." Eragon blurted. He could practically hear Saphira roll her eyes behind him. Arya covered up his lack of grace quickly, "We are on the brink of the most devastating war in history. We are outnumbered roughly 10,000 to 2,000, 5 to 1. Not counting whatever else Galbatorix has in store for Eragon and Saphira. It would be in all of our interests if you would assist us."

If Tenga had heard Arya he showed little sign as he ignited the homey fireplace with a quick glance. Arya and Eragon settled on the floor, used to such patience games with Oromis. Eragon entertained himself by glaring at the smirking Werecat across the room.

"I had heard that a human-elf was the new Dragon Rider. I've also heard that he rode with the Elvin Princess." Tenga handed the traveler's two mugs of steaming tea, "And they've ended up on my doorstep. You Rider, I have seen before without your companions."

"I suppose you're going to tell me that you knew who I was as soon as you laid eyes on me when I showed up at your door a few weeks ago?" Eragon guessed mildly.

A smile threatened to appear on the old hermits face, "My my, what a character you are, boy. But you have not sought me to say what you already know. You want to know what you don't know."

"Want is too lax a term. I _need_ to know where I can find the Rock of Kuthian. Well," Eragon said, "I've already found it; the problem is that I can't get it to open when I speak my Name."

_He spoke the wrong name_ _like a fool_, Solembum announced smugly. _Careful, feline_, Saphira rumbled from her post in the door way, her hot breath blowing across Eragon's back. Eragon resisted the urge to pitch his mug of tea at the Werecat. "But I've discovered my _real_ True Name-"

"Gracious boy, you blab more than that blasted witch I mentored many long years ago." Tenga sipped his tea, "I have an answer for you."

Eragon and Arya waited tensely for approximately two minutes as the old hermit casually finished off his tea.

"It's all in your head." Tenga announced.

Eragon was silent for about two seconds before his unmonitored response poured out of his mouth, "In my head? Are you saying I'm fabricating the existence of the Vault of Souls?" Eragon was about to retort what he thought was going on in Tenga's head until Solembum interrupted.

_I told you he was a defensive babbler_, Solembum prowled around Tenga. Saphira breathed on Eragon's back once more, causing his tense muscles to loosen against his will.

_My patience runs short with you as well, great Werecat_, Arya commented testily. "Tenga, are you implying that Eragon could reach the Vault of Souls mentally, voluntarily?"

Tenga explained. "What lies within the Vault of Souls is something Galbatorix himself has been struggling in vain to reach ever since the Fall."

Eragon nodded, "Right, the Dragon's spiritual form of the Eldunari. Could their spiritual form overcome their physical?"

"That is an answer I'm most looking forward to finding out." Tenga's eyes twinkled. Eragon shoved back his disappointment, "We have another question." Eragon didn't quite know how to ask since Tenga gracefully skirted around the question earlier; thankfully Arya took over. "You are a descendant of the Grey Folk and you have powers that could play a vital part in the Varden's victory."

Tenga suddenly looked 200 years old, "I know what you seek. I cannot help you." He closed his eyes as if having performed a completely draining act of magic, "The amount of energy it would take to even communicate… "

Arya leaned forward, "Do other Grey-Folk still exist in a physical form?"

Tenga suddenly stood up, "What a very nice conversation the three of you provide an old man with. After this war is over please come back and inform me of the outcome. I should enjoy hearing that story."

Eragon stood as well, "You're going to sit back and allow others to do the work? _How can this be your decision?_ If you have access to the Grey-Folk, then please tell them that we are in desperate need of their assistance."

Tenga's eyes narrowed, "I have a question to get busy answering myself, boy, and an answer that I have been searching many, many years for. The Great Question." Eragon remembered Angela's disgust when remembering Tenga's Great Question. "What is the question?" Eragon asked.

The Hermit smiled, "Why are we here? What process evolved into our form?" He turned his nose down upon Eragon, which was odd because of his short stature, "I have a quite complicated hypothesis, I assure you that it is beyond your comprehension."

Arya tugged Eragon out the door, "Obviously there's a reason the Grey Folk only exist in legend. Weak," She hissed loudly enough for Tenga to hear. As Arya made to climb up upon Saphira Eragon went back to Tenga's door and said, "I have an answer for your question, Tenga." Eragon swallowed hard, disappointment so thick it seemed to clog his throat, "God. " Eragon turned to mount Saphira.

Saphira blasted Tenga's garden with a jet of red-hot fire, much to Arya and Eragon's grimacing dismay, before she took to the sky.

_Fare thee well, Rider_. Solembum watched them soar from next to the smoking garden. _Remember, you already have access to the spiritual realm, and you didn't need a grumpy hermit to inform you of that_. _The portal you seek has been in your saddle bag._

"Glaedr," Eragon realized. Arya asked him to repeat himself above the roaring wind Saphira's wings were creating. "Glaedr can help us!"

Arya was thoughtful, "He is still grieving, surely. But, it was both Oromis' and Glaedr's idea to stay captive in the Eldunari to assist us."

_We have no time to waste_, Saphira urged, flying North-East. Carefully, as if she were taking a baby from its cradle, Arya removed Glaedr's heart of hearts from the sturdy sack in which it rested. Speaking in the Ancient Language she explained to the catatonic dragon their need and situation. A few minutes later Glaedr's strong presence overwhelmed the trio, causing Saphira to shudder in midair.

His rumbling voice almost brought tears to Eragon's eyes, how he needed Oromis and Glaedr! _The Spiritual Realm is as much mystery to me as any other. I can feel part of myself in the Vault of Souls almost as much as I feel myself in the physical world. The other dragons are bitter and ready for revenge. I feel their anger in my spiritual half. Eragon, I will help you open the Vault of Souls, but then you are on your own. You must convince, heal, and bond with my race. They have already witnessed my testimony; it is up to you to prove yourself worthy of their help, for if they assist you their price is great._

_What do you mean? _Asked Eragon._ What price?_

_Take my heart in your hands, Eragon. _Glaedr directed_. _Arya passed Eragon the heart; as soon as he touched Glaedr's Eldunari, it lulled him to sleep. _Good luck little one_, Saphira encouraged as his eyes shut. Arya's arms wrapping around his waist was the last thing Eragon comprehended before becoming completely unconscious.

A Diamond in the Rough

7:00 (hours left)

When Glaedr caused Eragon to pass into unconsciousness it had been completely dark outside, about midnight. Eragon opened his eyes to the blinding whiteness of the spiritual realm. _Not this again._

_Run._ Eragon felt the ground tremble with the force of Glaedr's command. Eragon ran as he never had before. Breathe in, Eragon wheezed, breathe out. He never had been much of a long distance sprinter. _Oh look, a light that I get to follow for forever_, he thought sarcastically as the caves light ignited in the distance. Instead of concentrating on his labored breathing, Eragon thought of the speech he would give once he entered the Vault. _Hi, I'm the new Rider. Just hoping you guys would break your forced oaths with Galbatorix and in return save the world that you are no longer a part of._

Eragon gulped and tried again_, I know if I was in your position (on a shelf in Galbatorix's bedroom closet), I would try to do the best I could for the people of Alagaesia who are suffering under his rule._ _With that said I was hoping you would all help the Varden…_

He heard Glaedr's booming laugh from within his mind, _you must do better than that._

Soon Eragon was panting in front of the Rock of Kuthian, the guardian of the Vault of Souls. _Speak your Name_, said Glaedr.

In the Ancient Language Eragon announced, "I am the Bringer of Light, open."

The ground began trembling so hard that Eragon lost his balance, bracing himself as the giant rock shook violently. The face of the rock mountain divided into two halves, separating opposite ways. Thankfully the earthquake stopped and Eragon sprang to his feet. The light from within the cave was blinding. Squinting, shielding his eyes, Eragon made his way into the open-mouthed cave. The further he found himself walking, the darker it was getting.

Soon it was cold and pitch dark. "Garjzla," He whispered, and in his palm a small light gave view to the empty vastness of the cave. Without warning his light was demolished, _that is cheating_, a high-pitched female voice snapped, as if her tongue was a bull hide whip.

_Hello_? Eragon released his mental shields. Curious minds poked and prodded his conscience. Only when Eragon started to feel severely violated did he raise his shields back up. The more these spirit Dragons knew about him the better.

_Welcome, Eragon Bromsson_, a deep, ancient, and resounding voice reverberated within the walls of his mind and the cave. The voice seemed to be as old as time itself. There was only one dragon Eragon could think of who could have a presence and voice like that.

_You must be the First Eragon's dragon_, Eragon realized with an awed whisper. Causing the old dragon to chuckle, _my name is Bid'Daum and_ _indeed I am hatchling._ _From what I've learned, you carry quite the burden on your mortal shoulders._

_Indeed I do. I've come for help defeating Galbatorix. _Eragon tried so hard to sound brave, but he only sounded like a mouse in front of a hundred tomcats.

_Step closer, brave one. _A soothing, motherly voice coaxed. Hesitantly Eragon stepped forward a few more steps, _there's no need to run into me_, the high-pitched female voice grated against Eragon's ears once more.

_Peace, Lenora_, the Great Dragon rumbled.

Eragon gave up on fumbling around in the dark, "I cannot see."

_Of course he can't see!_ A voice farther down the cave snapped, _he's half human._ Eragon wasn't sure to take this exclamation as an insult or as a favor. As if someone drew the curtains back on a bright summer morning light flooded into the room, Eragon gasped and stepped back, he was face to face with a stern looking female dragon. After blinking a couple times Eragon realized that it was a marble carving. Eragon was standing in front of a mile long wall that was just as long as it was tall. Dragon heads were carved out from the marble wall itself, beautiful, etched with every minute detail. These were obviously carvings of the real dragons. The high-pitched voice he had heard came from the female dragon right in front of his face, named Lenora. Hundreds of voices murmured curiously from up and down the wall, Eragon could hear every one.

_- Look how handsome he is. _

_Is he part elf? _

_Who is the lucky Dragon? -_

_Enough_. Bid'Daumcommanded; the talking ceased instantly. Eragon's head snapped towards the voice and he saw the most magnificent Dragon he had ever seen, the Great Dragon. His head carving was exponentially larger than the rest. The defined muscles in his arched neck gave Eragon a very good idea of what the rest of his body would have looked like; bigger than the mountains Eragon grew up in.

_You say your half-Elf, but that also makes you half-human. Why are you ashamed?_ Another voice asked Eragon. He shrugged, "Humans are discarded as weaklings and unintelligent beings, I suppose it sounds better in my position, which is the challenge of the century at the moment."

_You remind me of my Eragon_, Bid'Daum reminisced. _So brave and eager to do what was right, even if it was difficult. Now tell me, Eragon, how is my youngest relation serving you? I've heard her scales are quite the wonder. _

_You mean Saphira? _Eragon's jaw swore the statue's lips lifted in amusement, _she is a descendant of mine. If she's anything like the rest of her kin she is a trouble maker. _

_Great Dragon, I couldn't have dreamed of a more faithful and reliable partner than my Saphira. _Eragon bowed his head_. I would not be standing here today if it was not for her sacrifices and wisdom. _

The whispering began again; pleased and content emotions were tangible. _I enjoy hearing of my offspring's success, but that is not why you have risked so much to come here_. Bid'Daum once more quieted his fellow wall-mates down.

Speaking aloud, Eragon began from the beginning with his heritage and ended with him standing before the Vault of Souls, which took a while.

_Please_, Eragon bowed his head after he finished his tale, _all is lost if we don't regain your assistance. Do not fight against us but with us._

The motherly female, whose carving was next to Bid'Daum's, spoke reassuringly_, Galbatorix is responsible for the death of most of our Rider's and even our own destruction. We are most willing to help, but please understand it would end us completely._

A rumble of approval sounded from the wall of dragons. _Well spoken, Miramel_, they whispered.

_What do you mean 'end us completely'_? Eragon asked.

Bid'Daum answered, _our Heart of Hearts are mostly controlled by Galbatorix under oath. If we break the oath, even for a moment, our spiritual and physical Eldunari would perish. We would be sent to the abyss for the rest of eternity._

Eragon's mouth went dry, to be responsible for the destruction of every Rider's Dragon…_ Is this the only way?_

_It is. Dearest Rider, we willingly give you our lives. None of our Riders exist anymore. We have nothing to live for besides this. _Miremel explained.

_My mate speaks for all of us_, Bid'Daum affirmed solemnly. _Is it only Glaedr's Eldunari that you possess?_

_Yes, it is._

_Then we must speak to Glaedr for he will be a martyr in our last stand, _The Great Dragon summoned Glaedr's opinion.

Glaedr's familiar voice rumbled from the very end of the hallway where Eragon could not see, _I will be a willing martyr for Eragon and Saphira. For they carry my blessing and hope for the future. You are not just a farm boy from Carvahall, Eragon. You are a diamond in the rough and I beg you to remember it. _Eragon had to restrain the urge to sprint towards his voice.

After a long while of explanations and plans Eragon bowed deeply, letting his mental shields down he allowed every single dragon on the wall experience the gratitude and thankfulness that threatened to crush him.

_May peace be with you_, Eragon put his fingers to his lips, eyes tearing.

_And may the stars watch over you_, the dragons all rumbled in unison as Eragon exited the cave.

_Fare thee well, my brave little one._ Glaedr's voice held so much pride that tears threatened to stain Eragon's cheeks.

_I will not fail you, _was Eragon's last thought as he woke up in Arya's arms and felt the rhythmic pounding of Saphira's wings underneath him. Breathing a great sigh of relief he leaned back in her tight embrace.

_We are to win_.

It is Time

0:00

By the time Saphira came within two miles from Uru'Baen it was clear that the greatest war in history had already begun. Soldiers were screaming, swords clanging and a lonely dragon circling the sky demanding for the flesh of his foe created quite the cacophony. Saphira growled deeply_, let us be done with this._

_If we are going to use Aren at all, than this is it_. Eragon took a deep breath while Saphira and Arya melded their minds with his. Eragon pulled enough energy out of Brom's ring to completely refresh the trio. With renewed vigor he realized that the massive amount of energy he pulled hadn't even dented the reserve.

_Thank you dad, _he thought privately. Gingerly he cut off Arya from his mind and spoke to his dragon; _I love you, Saphira, keeper of my heart_. Tears stung his eyes. Saphira had no words for him, just a crushing intimacy that was beyond any physical capacity. Before he lost it completely he switched to Arya, who did all the talking. _Eragon, if the three of us come out of this war alive and together, then I will allow you to put me through that torturous human custom you call a wedding._

Tears gone, Eragon grinned, _fair enough._

Saphira answered Thorn's call with a roar that set a deep and aching rattling in Eragon and Arya's bones. The fighting seemed to cease as Saphira swept towards the battle scene. Eragon swung his sword from its sheath with Elvin grace while setting it on fire with a raging thought. With the greatest uproar Eragon had ever heard or will ever hear again in his life, the Varden welcomed their last hope onto the battlefield.

Brisingr met Zar'roc, and the distinct ring of clashing Elvin metal never sounded so good. Arya leapt off the back of the saddle and with his senses Eragon knew that Queen Islanzadi caught her daughter with magic. Murtagh was wearing a helmet this time and Zar'roc looked right at home sitting in his treacherous hands. _Not treacherous_, he had attempted to convince himself_. Oh, forget it!_ This time, Eragon was striking to kill, not parry, and Murtagh was beginning to look frightened. Saphira had the same mindset as she sunk her teeth deep within Thorns jugular

_Eragon, listen_. Arya said gently despite the horrific battle. _I know what he's done. But he was possessed by Galbatorix. I know you feel betrayed, and I know you are more capable of killing him now more than ever. But he is here to help us whether you understand it or not. Please, spare his life for he has a large part to play today. He has Nasuada's full confidence… and my own._

Eragon begrudgingly put out the fire on his sword while Saphira backed off, leaving Thorn howling in agony. Murtagh began healing Thorns wounds with the same glowing orb he had used in their last fight. With narrowed eyes Eragon and Saphira realized what it was he was using; an Eldunari. "Whose murdered Dragon Heart is that, Murtagh?" He taunted. Startled, Murtagh gripped the heart tighter. "Come on," Eragon sneered, "Is it Jarnunvosk's? How about Formora's Dragon? Don't tell me it's Morzan's?"

"Shut up!" Murtagh snarled, a cruel smile lit his handsome face, "It's actually Saphira's. You know, Brom's old Dragon? She's quite helpful, not like she has a choice in the matter."

Something snapped inside Eragon. The massive noise of battle disappeared and all Eragon could hear was his own steady breathing. Saphira's mind melded completely with his: blood. That's all they both wanted. Nasuada's wishes set aside, Saphira tucked under Thorn with speed unmatched by her breed. With a heavy grunt she stopped completely underneath the red beast and boosted herself upward. Eragon submerged his entire blade within Thorn's chest cavity. The scream it drew from the beast was enough to snap Eragon out of his trance.

"ERAGON!" Nasuada screamed below him. As Thorn wheeled away Eragon looked down to the ground where Nasuada's face, streaked with tears, was staring up at him. Eragon felt ice settle in his stomach as he realized what he had done. Saphira was having a hard time feeling anything but rage at the moment. Flying to where Thorn collapsed on a rooftop of the castle Eragon dismounted. Murtagh was weeping over Thorns body, "Look what you've done!" He wheeled around with his sword. "No Eldunari could heal that! He's going to die!"

"Please," Eragon hung his head, "Let me heal Thorn."

"You? Out of every person on this planet I trusted you and Nasuada the most. Go out and die for all I care! Did you not know the plan? Leave us alone." He cried.

Eragon walked up to Murtagh and stood next to him, "Allow me to help you."

Murtagh didn't say a word but silently moved to the side. A few minutes late he asked, "Eragon, did Nasuada tell you what happened?"

As Eragon melded himself with the endless amount of energy he answered, "Yes. What have you up your sleeve?" All of his previous anger had melted away with the look on Nasuada's face which seemed to be permanently imprinted onto the back of his eyelids.

"A dragon." Murtagh whispered quietly. Eragon slowly began speaking in the Ancient language, weaving and threading a complicated spell that would heal the dying dragon from the inside out.

When he was done he released Aren's energy. "Whose dragon are you referring to?"

Murtagh shook his head, "You will have to see. I am under oath, Eragon; if I say its name I'll be destroyed."

Eragon kicked at a pebble, "So do we keep pretending to fight until your surprise gets here or what?"

"No, I tried that and it brought us to this. I will keep playing up Thorn's injury. Then Galbatorix is soon to reveal himself with Shruikan… and when that happens." Murtagh gulped, "I better hope my surprise is good enough."

Eragon was starting to go deaf from the loudness of the battle, they wouldn't have much longer to converse. "Do you love her?" He shouted above the increasing noise.

"With all my heart."

"Very well and so be it." Eragon embraced Murtagh who hugged him fiercely back, "Good luck brother." Murtagh whispered. Half-brother, Eragon couldn't help thinking. He mounted Saphira and they took off. _You_ _were oddly silent_, he commented.

_I am proud of you,_ Saphira said before a tremble shook the castle, the shaking increased dramatically. _. I saw what you did,_ Arya spoke to him, and disappointment etched her tone. Eragon looked down at her from his perch, _but then again you didn't_, he reminded. He replayed his conversation with Murtagh to her. She was thoughtful as the castle began crumbling apart, _Could he possibly mean that the third egg hatched?_

Eragon looked down to see every being staring to the west of the castle where the Varden had taken siege. But it was not the Varden they were staring at; it was the twenty or more white robed individuals that stood side by side on a hill top with their arms raised. The magic was obviously coming off of them even though it felt as if 200 magicians were behind the force. Spells were bouncing off the men rapidly. Arya finally got a close enough look at the 20 men and laughed, _Its Tenga! He's brought the Grey Folk!_

Eragon saw with satisfaction as in turn the Elvin Spell casters were taking this time to single out the hidden Empire magicians and taking them down one by one

_Possibly… This might sound inane, but I remember that Galbatorix falsely bonded with Shruikan. _Eragon shook his head at the thought.

_What are you suggesting?_

_That Shruikan may not be as faithful as we believe him to be. Maybe that is the Dragon Murtagh's referring to?_

A chunk of castle as large as Saphira tumbled and smashed onto the Empire forces. The Varden, Dwarves and Elves cheered.

_That is a lot to hope for_, Arya finally commented, her eyes glued to the castle. Eragon, however, began killing Empire magicians and the Elvin Spell Casters joined him immediately.

Meanwhile, the gigantic castle began crumbling in sections. Some of the Du Vrangr Gata and Elves pitched in to the project and the castle began falling even faster. Thorn and Murtagh scrambled off their tower as it pitched forward.

_Cease fire_. Eragon commanded of the archers who aimed at the fleeing pair. Saphira's wings beat rhythmically in time with her fire-breathing as she began scorching the endless supply of Empire soldiers. Her wards were directly connected with Aren so whatever weapon that came flying her way bounced off her easily without draining energy from either her or Eragon.

Taking Eragon's lead, King Orrin and King Orik yelled a charge and the battle restarted while the castle, which was larger than Eragon's entire village 100 fold, came tumbling down.

Eragon grinned as he took life after life, running side by side with his Dragon, but the smile soon disappeared from his face when he heard the first ground shaking _whoosh… whoosh….whoosh_, of a mighty Dragon's wings.

"Eragon! It's Shruikan! Galbatorix is riding him!" Roran yelled from ten yards away, still slinging his hammer. Fear seized Eragon hammering heart. The pressure against his ears was almost unbearable; soldiers around him were clapping their hands against their ears and dropping weapons. _Are you ready for the last fight of our lives?_ He of Saphira asked, a lump threatening to clog his throat. For an answer she let loose a roar that engulfed twenty yards of Empire soldiers in flames. Eragon leapt upon her with agility only a Dragon Rider could possess. The shouts of encouragement from all their friends were overwhelming as they ascended into the gray and gritty air.

Saphira charged Shruikan with the energy of a rabid Shrrg. Eragon, on the other hand, was busy trying to remember all the last minute tips and spells Oromis and Glaedr had taught them. He approached Galbatorix' mental wall, it was solid as rock. He began panicking, startling Arya who is connected with him.

_Eragon_, Arya said reassuringly in his mind. _His castle was solid rock, too._ Eragon chanced a glance at the castle, only there was no castle, just an enormous pile of rubble. Eragon looked upon his enemy's mind differently. Fissures, tiny cracks, holes, weak spots; Eragon began a thorough process of poking and prodding the enemy's mind. Which seemed to not be causing Galbatorix any worry whatsoever as he cast spell after spell, which Eragon deflected all too easily.

_He's toying with me_. Eragon grumbled.

_Don't give away any strategy._ Arya exclaimed, _attack hard first_! Eragon made up random weak, nagging spells and threw them every which way at Galbatorix and Shruikan. Galbatorix frowned deeply at this. His thinning hair swirled around his helmetless head_; I will kill you, Eragon son of Morzan_. Eragon gulped, Galbatorix had just passed through his mental barriers like they were nothing. Eragon met the king's eyes for the first time. They were black. Void.

_I've been told you are a bit more charismatic than that_. Eragon felt Galbatorix pierce his mental shield with a fabricated blade, causing Eragon to cry out and double over. Shruikan screamed, causing Galbatorix to cease his mental ambush. Saphira had gashed the black dragon in the chest, overcoming the heavy wards.

_Well done_. Eragon praised, readying his sword while his mind recovered.

With no further encouragement Saphira latched onto Shruikan like a leech. Eragon swung Brisingr in an arch meeting the evil king's blade for the first time in history. The battle slowed once more as a solid clang echoed throughout the field. Galbatorix was breathing hard, even though they had not even begun to fight. With the eyes of the world on them, Eragon wasted no time engaging in epic combat. Shruikan began shaking Saphira like a terrier with a rat. But he could not rid of her and Galbatorix was having an equally tough time with Eragon's swordsmanship. "You fight like your brother." He hissed like a snake.

Eragon retorted by delivering an unexpected cut that sliced into the right side of the king's shoulder. Eragon felt tired all of a sudden, his attacking became defending. _The wards_, he realized _Galbatorix's wards tax on my strength! I'm keeping him alive!_ Calling upon Aren he renewed his and Saphira's strength, startling Galbatorix. "What secrets are you hiding?" Galbatorix hissed. Eragon lowered his voice, "The same ones you are."

_Somethings wrong_. _Shruikan's telling me to cease our attack_. Saphira unlatched herself from Shruikan and flew backward a few yards. _Saphira what's happening with Shruikan?_ Eragon asked.

When Saphira didn't respond Eragon looked at the black dragon and in confusion saw him shaking. Galbatorix was obviously just as confused as he.

_Eragon, what is amiss?_ Arya asked, suddenly aware of the issue.

_I have no idea_. Eragon was entranced by the way the enormous black dragon shook. Shruikan closed his large yellow eyes and Eragon heard the Dragon's low voice within, _Eragon I have been contacted by Bid'Daum and I deliver his message:_

_It is time._

Without further ado, Eragon withdrew Glaedr's heart of hearts so that Galbatorix could clearly see the golden Eldunari. Galbatorix glared at Eragon so fiercely it should have seared him. Rain began pounding the battlefield, creating a huge field of liquid bodily fluids and grunge.

"It is time," Eragon repeated to Glaedr in the Ancient Language. First, the Eldunari's glow was soft, then increased 2 fold and continually doubled in brightness until Eragon was no longer able to look at it.

_Throw me_, Glaedr commanded and Eragon tossed the Eldunari high in the air where it shattered into a million little pieces.

Release the Dragons

Almost one hundred, huge, massive Dragons appeared on the battlefield, and the destruction was immediate. The entire vicinity began to burst into flame. Gasping, sputtering, Galbatorix began hissing an incantation that would take the life force from any life form within 20 miles of the scene, including himself. And he would have completed it if Bid-Daum hadn't side-swept him with one mighty sweep of his thick tail, freeing Shruikan of his devil Rider. Eragon gulped as Galbatorix steadied himself in mid-air and fixed his black orbs on him, Galbatorix was flying towards him at a high velocity. His long fingernails stretched towards Eragon's throat, he was only two meters away at best.

Eragon did the only thing he could possibly think of doing at that moment.

Galbatorix's black eyes widened and constricted so fast Eragon was distracted from the fact that Brisingr was completely embedded in the King's heart.

Gasping, Eragon realized that his own breathing was constricting. The Wards! Galbatorix's lips lifted in a smile as he hung off Brisingr in midair. Eragon would die if Galbatorix died. Even now Eragon felt his energy leaving him.

Arya figured it out first, and began sprinting through both armies, leaping over bodies dead and alive. _Let him go, Eragon! Let him go!_ She yelled. Saphira began thrashing, trying to rid Brisingr of Galbatorix.

_Stop_, Eragon demanded. _I must do this._ He slid off the saddle and he and Galbatorix plummeted towards the ground. Hazy hallucinations showed hundreds of Dragons destroying the battlefield below him; they were smashing Empire soldiers and ravaging Galbatorix's mutant hybrids. The Varden's cheers were non-existent as they locked in to the scene above them.

Eragon was starting to see red, his heart seized not from the height of their fall, but from his own sword in Galbatorix's cold heart_. Please, just let us hit the ground,_ he begged_. I'm done, I'm done, I'm done. _His saliva had a sickening metallic taste; his blood seemed to pound through his ears. Locking eyes with Galbatorix, who was slumped against Brisingr, he kept falling and falling.

Falling, he decided, is worse than dying as the rush of wind caused tears to streak across his face.

The screaming below him was enough to rip Eragon out of his stupor.

_Take hold of me, _a smooth male voice said_._ Eragon gasped as a young green dragon's eye appeared before him with Arya was on his back. _"Eragon!" _Saphira's scream rattled his brain. "Grab onto Lithen", Murtagh yelled from atop Thorn, reaching towards Eragon.

_No energy… _

_Eragon stop this madness. Take my hand. _Arya demanded fiercely. _Can't_, he sighed as Galbatorix took his last shaky breath. This was it; they were going to both die-

Murtagh swung Zar'roc in an arch and completely decapitated Galbatorix, the King and Brisingr were separated from Eragon. Energy and life rushed back into Eragon, but his elated laughing stopped as the ground quickly approached. _Uh,_ _Saphira?_

The wind rushed out of him as Saphira's hard scales abruptly stopped his descent.

"_Bloody hell," _He wheezed. Energy continued to pour back into his system and his legs clamped onto Saphira's sides which were trembling as she raged, _what do you think you were doing?_

_Eragon, _Arya's angry voice was reverberating in his head_. You are lucky I do not kill you myself." She and the green dragon named Lithen took off towards the opposite end of the battlefield where all the Elves were massing._

_He deserves at least that much, _Saphira snarled_._

Eragon bowed his head_. _

_We have a war to finish, _Saphira added softly. _What happened over there? _Eragon motioned towards the gathering Elves.

_A terrible deed has been done in your stead, dearest one._

Of Celebration and Loss

_Where is she?_ Eragon's keen eyesight was no match for the dense after-battle smog. Eragon ran through the exposed hallways of Galbatorix's crushed fortress, ignoring the congratulatory shouts of the Varden and pleas for help of the wounded. _We won, we won, we won. _He kept chanting in his head as he leaped over the wreckage, sprinting through the massive courtyard. There. In the middle of the court, speaking with Blodhgarm was Arya. Eragon slowed to a stop as time itself halted. She looked as though she had fallen countless stories as he had, but at the moment she was the most beautiful thing Eragon had ever seen in his life.

She started running towards him. Within seconds, surrounded by friends and captive foes alike, Eragon had her in his arms, spinning her around. Arya ran her hand through his hair, "Look at you, you must look worse than I."

Eragon grinned and pulled her close, "That's not hard to do—"

Eragon was interrupted by Arya's lips against his own. _I think I won more than a war, _he closed his eyes. The remaining energy he had left went into the best kiss of his life. A tingling sensation that he knew very well spread across the left side of his body, Arya was healing him as well.

Someone wolf-whistled, causing Arya to pull back. "Quiet, Roran." Eragon grinned, clapping his dust-covered brother on the back. Their reunion was interrupted by Nasuada storming the courtyard, "Eragon! You just _wait_ until I think of a proper punishment for you!"

Eragon had the sense to feel somewhat intimidated. "I was scared silly _for_ you since you didn't seem to have one ounce of self-preservation out there." She angrily twisted her thick black hair into what looked like a braid. Then without warning she shoved Arya aside and hugged Eragon tightly, "I forgive you," she sighed, not pulling back.

"Women. That's one thing I'll never understand." Murtagh winked pulling Nasuada to him, ignoring the death glares from their surrounding company.

_Look what I have_, Arya spoke to Eragon mentally, flashing the silver mark on her right hand. His jaw dropped, _Lithen_? Arya nodded promising to explain it to him later.

Eragon shook his head in disbelief, "How are we all still here after all this?" He returned back to the others conversation.

"We're not, Eragon. We've lost Orrin, Jormundur, countless council members, that's not even counting Oriks' losses." Nasuada sighed.

Blodhgarm approached Arya, "Your majesty, the time has come." His voice cut off. Arya put a hand on his arm, conversing silently. She pulled back, "The Queen has been fatally wounded, I must go to her." She took off with Blodhgarm in the direction of the battlefield, where the sounds of wailing was increasing by the second.

Blodhgarm explained to the stunned group that the Queen had put herself in front of Galbatorix' most powerful spell caster as he tried to kill both the King and Eragon. "It was obviously plotted that if Eragon was to take the Kings life, that this spellcaster would finish the deed." Blodhgarm startling Eragon by putting a hairy hand, "She wishes to speak to you."

The Queen and Arya were alone in a hastily erected tent, surrounded by wailing Elves. Eragon was about to enter the tent when a young spell caster from the Du Vrangr Gata appeared before him in hysterics, "Lord Eragon, please help us, you're the only one who can help her!" Eragon didn't ask questions but followed the young girl to the battle field where the rest of the human spell casters had formed a circle.

"Trianna," He whispered to the almost unrecognizable sorceress. Three barbed-arrows protruded from her chest, blood trickled out of her mouth. To his horror, tears began to form in his eyes, and all he could do was take her hand. She tried to say his name, but the blood blocked her speech. He shushed her and reached out for her mind, but she was already too far-gone.

_Kill me_, she manage to connect form in her head.

_You have acted most bravely and I will make certain that the kingdom knows of your great act of are one of the most ambitious and loyal people I know._ With that, Eragon whispered an energy-draining incantation and shut her eyes. That was the end of Trianna, the Varden's most powerful Sorceress.

"Tents have been set up and food is being prepared, please, allow others to help while you rest." Farica, Nasuada's handmaid insisted. Eragon, still numb from ending Trianna's life, allowed himself to be led to his tent where Saphira awaited. As he came closer, her neck snaked out to wrap him in a much-needed thorny embrace.

"The Queen is ready to see you," Arya interrupted the private moment between Eragon and Saphira. Eragon met her eyes as he walked past her and she brushed her hand against his. Somehow, Eragon found the will power to keep walking forward and ducked inside the tent.

The Queen was lying on her death bed, her breath shallow. Dried blood cracked on her face as she smiled up at Eragon, "I hear you are to be part of the family."

"Your Majesty, I heard what you have done for me, how may I possibly begin to repay you?" Eragon choked out, taking her hand.

"Convince my daughter that her rebellious spirit is…" She had to regain her breath, "what my people need. Convince who ever needs convincing. I know you do what is right, no matter what it takes."

"As you wish, your Majesty, it will become my first priority."

The Queen was dying so rapidly Eragon was at a loss of what to do. "I want my Arya to be your first priority, you must do that."

Eragon was speechless, "You what?"

"I give you both my blessing as I have already. You are the one for her. You are the one for this world."

The Elves rushed in as the last of the Queens life force left her body.

Eragon walked out of the tent and met Arya's eyes, _your mine_, were the only words that he could form comprehensively. An arm around Arya, and the other hand on Saphira shoulder, the trio made their way through the battlefield towards the group of Royals that awaited them.

Arya's Wyrda

My fate, the rest of my existence and my purpose has been laid out clearly before me, and yes, Eragon plays a significant role. When I wake the day after the war it is him I am laying next to in the tent and his comforting presence causes relief. After all we've been through in the last couple days he can still cause my anxiety to lessen and my heart to lift. In a month's time I will publicly reject my race and accept Eragon's, as we pronounce our union in this _wedding_. Eragon tells me that I must wear a white dress and that the union will be in front of thousands of people. A small sigh escapes me as I stare at the ceiling; Eragon will be King. Nasuada will be Queen. I will be… useful in some way, I imagine.

Elves have this annoying habit of loving and leaving. At one point in my life I found that option less restrictive, less demanding. Now looking back I can admit that I was afraid of the commitment, afraid to hand my heart, as tough as it may be, to someone who had the power to hurt me. I can handle any physical threat, but the internal and spiritual threats I cannot prevent.

Eragon stirs next to me," What are you doing?" He asks, rubbing his eyes.

"Thinking."

That got his full attention. He sat up on his elbows, hair sticking out every direction. The grin that I find so charming stretched slyly across his face, "I suppose I would worry too if I was marrying me in a month."

"Eragon is that all you can think about?" He laughs as I shove him flat. I like the way his eyes meet mine without hesitation and fear, unlike anyone else I talk to. He takes my right hand in his, allowing our Gedwey Ignasias to touch, the glow they created was almost blinding.

"Just remember to make use of me when you're sitting on your throne making those executive decisions that you fear so entirely. I will not be idle." Though my accent softened the world 'idle', I tried to make it up with my tone. Eragon's hand traced up my arm that was pinning him down while he spoke, "Are you saying that I'm to forget you? I thought you wanted me to take the throne beside Nasuada. If that is not what you want then say so and Nasuada can lead by herself. I'll happily step aside."

"That is not what I wish for you to do. All I want is to be of some value in this kingdom, next to you."I stood up, not being able to take the somberness in his darkened eyes, "Because you are the only person the people of Alagaesia need, not I or even Nasuada, Eragon. I will be forgotten and sent out on simple missions and just be…"

"Just be what?" Eragon's voice was right behind me, I forget how stealthy he's become after the transformation.

I grabbed my leather pants and shirt out of my pack, "Useless."

"You're a Dragon Rider, Arya. How could you possibly be useless? Together, we will travel all over Alagaesia, reshaping the world. When your mother spoke to me, what she desired above all was for you to be her successor-" He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Thankful for the interruption, Eragon opened the door to a runner boy. It was time to witness the aftermath.

Ever After

A couple hours later Eragon, Saphira and I were leading the way through the massive swamp of body's and blood that was the previous battlefield. Had it only been 24 hours ago that the three of us had swept upon the battlegrounds? My foot kicked a soldier's neck and I stopped to look upon the corpse; he was maybe 17, hardly younger than Eragon. The thought made me sick because it could have been Eragon's neck I kicked, not this young man's, had fate decided to differ.

"So young," Nasuada said behind me, "They were all so young."

"And if they were anything like I was in my household, they were the major providers." Eragon said, looking upon the face of another young soldier. "How many hostages?" He asked of Jormundur's successor. "There are roughly 450, Lord Eragon."

For the amount of Empire soldiers there were, that was hardly a measurable amount.

Without seeking permission first, Eragon directed, "After their medical needs are attended to have them released. We've no need for captives."

Nasuada took Murtagh's hand, "We could use the help."

"Not that kind of help. We need volunteers and willing citizens. We would look just like Galbatorix if we made the captives slaves."

Compassion. That was the trait of Eragon's that I most admired. He was right; volunteers not slaves. The trust that these hostages would bestow unto us if we medicated them and released them back to their families was immeasurable. I caught his eye and he smiled slightly, "Arya has a bigger job to do." That caught the other's attention, including my own.

"The Elves need a Queen, Arya." Nasuada said softly.

As softly as she spoke it, her statement still shook me, "Not me. It was never supposed to be me." I was the one who betrayed my race. I was the one who let my own mother die in lieu of Eragon. The Elves would never accept me for as long as they held this grudge.

Nasuada said, "You would patch the brokenness between our races, Arya. Unlike any Elvin Queen before, you would lead your people forward with the rest of the world and not keep them captured in the past."

"Lady Nasuada, you overestimate my abilities. Please, let us talk after the Queen's funeral." My right hand gripped Eragon's arm like a life-line, and he took the pain without complaining, knowing it was just my way of leaning on him for support. I do not even want to think about the funeral; the way my people will mourn her, the way they will anger when I try to take her place.

_Nails. In. Arm._ Eragon finally grimaced and I released it immediately, letting my nails bite into my own palm instead. The group of us had walked over to the semi-circle of Dragons: Saphira, Lithen, Shruikan and Thorn. The sight of the magnificent Dragons all in the same place still took my breath away, and I had a feeling I would never be used to it. Lithen looked curiously at me and I felt what he was feeling: a connection. A connection that we had felt the moment I met his eyes for the first time yesterday when we saved Eragon together. My Gedwey Ignasia burned slightly on my right hand, still unreal to me. In fact, the past two days have been unreal. The past day has brought everything from the biggest war in history, the next dragon rider, and the death of the Elvin Queen.

I will become the next Queen, Eragon will rule Alagaesia beside Nasuada and as for the rest of the Varden… we can only hope to extend the olive branch and integrate with those who have been underneath Galbatorix' rule. I see Eragon discussing the future of the Varden with Nasuada. His stern expression, which has matured greatly over the past two years, make him look like the man I knew he had always wanted to be. Eragon wants to help those who cannot help themselves and be a great force against the evil in the world. I, on the other hand, want to live and be the best partner to Eragon and the best leader of my people that I can possibly be with the time that I have.

A woman who once wanted to be invisible now wants to be something extraordinary, and a farm boy from Carvahall destroyed the most evil emperor in the history of the world, all within a day. Could fate play anymore with our lives? Taking Eragon's hand, startling those around him with the obvious sign of affection, I prayed, _I hope it does._

The End.

Arya's journey continues in a series of epilogues called _The Aftermath_.


End file.
